


Filling the Lines

by Blizzaurus (Pisara)



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Literal teacher Sergio, Mixed with angst and pining, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Soft domestic feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-09-07 01:43:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20301379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pisara/pseuds/Blizzaurus
Summary: Sergio decides to implement his long-planned heist to the Royal Mint of Spain two years earlier. This has one seemingly unimportant result:Raquel Murillo is still married.In order to get close to her and the investigation, Sergio poses as her daughter's schoolteacher. However, what he didn't account for is that befriending her would come with one minor problem...Well, if you can call falling for a woman you can never have anything minor.***Or, an excuse to write a very soft fic with Sergio as a teacher.





	1. Chapter 1

Andrés' index finger landed on Inspector Murillo's forehead with a thump, startling Sergio awake from his concentrated trance.

"Is this the one?“

Sergio lifted his gaze at the picture on the chalkboard. Murillo's picture had been taped beside Rubio's, her second-in-command. His thoroughly educated and researched guess was that just these two would be the key players in the mission he'd been planning most of his life, and thus deserved a central place on his board, spiderwebs of notes and photographs framing the two pictures. It was almost like a shrine, when he thought about it.

"That would be the head investigator of the case, yes. Raquel Murillo."

He glanced at Andrés. It was rare for his brother to show any sort of interest in the finer details of the operation unless it involved him and his input. That was only one of the reasons it was surprising to see him here, of all places.

Thursdays had been reserved for research and recreation - research for Sergio, recreation for everyone else. The drink in Andrés' hand suggested that he had been drinking and partying with the others downstairs.

What drew him here, Sergio had no idea.

"She is a gorgeous woman," said Andrés, still peering at Murillo.

Sergio glanced at the picture absently. If there was one thing that his brother could recognize within just a few seconds, it was female beauty, and Sergio wasn't about to invalidate him. Inspector Murillo was, indeed, attractive, but that was maybe the least relevant attribute of hers to the plan. It irritated him a little that it was the only thing Andrés could see on a board full of meticulous and ironclad research.

"I suppose she has a pleasant enough face," Sergio muttered, continuing to make notes under Rubio's photo.

"If that is the most graceful thing you can say about a woman, it is not too astonishing that you remain unmarried."

Sergio's mouth twitched. As much as he loved Andrés, he was not in the mood for big-brotherly teasing about his lack of love life. _Tell me, has your fifth divorce already been finalized?_ he wanted to shoot back.

"Our operation does not involve marrying anyone, least of all Inspector Murillo. She is CNP's top negotiator and integral to our plan as it unfolds.”

”Enlighten me," Andrés pleaded. "If I'm going to be in charge, I need to know about your strategy outside the Mint as well."

Perhaps boredom was the reason his brother had wandered here. It wasn’t too difficult to notice he had a hard time fitting in. It could either be his age or his personality which Sergio knew could be a strain at times. Still, it was surprisingly touching that he, _or anyone, really_, showed interest in his work outside the classroom.

"Very well. As you know already, my cover for the duration of the heist will be one of an ordinary schoolteacher's. Not only did I plan the robbery to take place during the Alison Parker's school trip, but I also coincided it with the sabbatical the history teacher from Emperatriz María elementary was planning to take. Starting from next month, I will be giving substituting her class until the school board approves of a new, permanent teacher. Salvador Martín has already been registered as a part of their supply staff since 2012 which will make me the first person they'll call."

Andrés gave a dry chuckle. "I'm impressed. This really has been a long game for you. But tell me, how does this help us?"

"Raquel Murillo's daughter is enrolled in that school."

His brother's eyes flashed with interest. "I see. You are going to take her little girl as security-"

"No, no, no, god no," Sergio started shaking his head violently. "Have you been listening to my lessons at all? We will do as little harm as we possibly can to innocent civilians. It makes me ashamed to have to tell you we won't be taking _c__hild hostages."_

"Save me the lecture. What use is the daughter then?"

"She is only an excuse for me to gain familiarity with her mother, and that way, the case she'll soon be undertaking. The objective is to assume a position of trust that allows me to remain close to her throughout the investigation."

Andrés took another sip of his drink, perusing Murillo's picture with a dark glint in his eyes Sergio knew too well.

"Cozying up with the inspector. Almost makes me envy you."

Sergio lifted one curious eyebrow. No more was needed for Andrés to launch into one of his usual tirades.

"Sergio, Sergio..." he started, rolling the r's in his name in an affectionate, if only slightly patronizing manner. "Women are like flowers. Beautiful and fragrant... but stubbornly secretive with their petals often clamped shut. You need to gently, lovingly peel away those protective layers if you wish to succeed. But there is only one path to the receptiveness you seek, and that goes through her bedroom. A woman is only honest with you when naked."

Sergio smiled tightly. "If you are suggesting what I assume you always are, I'm sorry to inform you that she is married."

"So?“

Sergio blinked, once, then twice, before finally sighing. "Just because your moral standards are as low as they are, does not mean that we all share the same values. And even if she was single, someone like her would never…"

He trailed off, opting finally just to swallow the rest of the sentence. But it was already too late. Andrés had already slung his hand around his shoulder in a brotherly tight-hold.

"You need to have more self-confidence than that if we want to pull this off, Checo."

Sergio didn't know what was more embarrassing, having admitted his insecurity with pretty women, or hearing his childhood nickname from Andrés’ lips. It took him all the way back to days before his hospitalization, when his brother used to take him on bike rides and shout 'Bella, bella!' at every passing girl. Sergio remembered his cheeks burning as he followed after Andrés who teased him relentlessly for his flusterment.

_Checo, someday you are going to meet the woman of your dreams and then you will thank me for being able to say hello without shitting yourself!_

"Don't make me pull you off the team," Sergio muttered darkly. Andrés let him go, grinning.

"Come downstairs. You have spent enough time gaining dust here by yourself."

Andrés cut off Sergio's start of a protest. "This thing is not going to topple if you take a couple of hours off every now and then."

In the end, he couldn't but comply. As he walked out with his brother, he turned to sneak one last glance at the board.

Just a few weeks and he would start his cover as a teacher. A couple more, and he would bring his life's mission to a close. Then, and only then he would be able to breathe again.

* * *

Truth to be told, Sergio loved working as a teacher.

Perhaps that was why he had chosen his alias. _The Professor_. There was something invigorating about getting to share information kept so long inside his head. It was no longer for his own benefit, it was something that could make a real, enriching difference in others' lives. Enriching in a literal sense, in the case of his primary lessons.

But this time, he wasn't teaching how to dig up a bullet from a flesh wound or how to pack bills of 50 euros in the most efficient way possible. The short few weeks he would work at Emperatriz María primary school, he would teach about the French Revolution and the Napoleonic wars.

There was something amusingly similar about schoolchildren and his students in crime. They both tended to lack focus and had to be persuaded to learn by fun methods such as getting to play-act events, were it the battle of Waterloo or complete takeover of a government building. Both were also difficult to control when it came to the most base human instincts. He needed more than two hands to count the times he had to break out a schoolboy fight or keep his criminal pupils from jumping into each other's beds.

To his delight, he found children a more receptive audience than he was maybe used to at the mansion. He quite enjoyed making them laugh and feel excited about his lessons.

Salvador Martín was a good-natured, carefree teacher who took pride in his work and wanted to make the world a better place. He was not too far from Sergio Marquina, he started to think as he found himself smiling more often than not while grading the kids' homework late at night at the mansion.

_What I learned from the French revolution is that we should have another one before they get too cocky._

"You're quite right," he murmured aloud at little Matias' quiz answer and marked his paper with a gold star.

As much joy as this cover had surprisingly brought him, he had never lost the sight of his mission. Paula Vicuña had been an exceptional student of his, both bright and lively, but it was her mother that he needed to befriend, not the kid. So he kept a close eye on the parents coming to pick up their children or to drop them off in the morning, hoping to catch a glimpse of Raquel Murillo.

But she never came.

What Sergio had to work with instead was her husband, Alberto Vicuña. He was the one who both brought Paula to school and took her home. He had also attended the single teacher-parent conference they had had since Sergio had started there.

He tried not to think of it as a too major of a setback. Adjusting one's mindset was the key to victory. So he shifted his focus on Paula's father instead, hoping to build a connection that could, eventually, bring him into the vicinity of Murillo as well.

As it soon turned out, he had been too optimistic in that regard. Alberto worked with the efficiency of a bullet train. Car in, car out. If the man happened to step a foot inside the school halls, he was always talking to his phone, even when hand in hand with his daughter. The one time Sergio had tried to approach him after the conference, he had brushed him off like a pestering fly.

It was all enough to make him reconsider his cover. Would it have worked better if he had approached Raquel in some other environment? Perhaps as just some curious stranger in a public space she frequented?

There was a risk with that, however, considering her marriage. It would be too easy for her to think he was coming onto her if he was too friendly, the impression he would give even skeevier because of the ring in her finger. As his daughter's teacher, he had a better chance of talking to her without coming off as someone interested her in the wrong way.

Not to say the way Sergio was interested in her could be described in any way as _right_.

After he had been left to consider these issues for a handful of days, he finally had a breakthrough. Well, something that could be called a breakthrough when compared to his lack of success this far.

One afternoon when he was cleaning up his desk in señora Costales' classroom, there was a knock on the door. Without further ado, the person on the other side entered.

"Julia," called a singsongy voice of Alberto Vicuña. He was smiling - a fact soon changed by his eyes falling on Sergio, looking very much like someone not named Julia.

However, Vicuña's smile wavered only for a few short seconds. The tightness of his jaw quickly eased off and he fixed on another, charming but coolly professional smile on his face. Sergio returned the gesture with a friendly grin.

"I'm very sorry for not being señora Costales. My name is Salvador Martín. I'm substituting for her."

"Ah," Vicuña smiled on. "I only wanted to exchange a few words about my daughter, but that can wait. Do you happen to know where she is? I hope she is not ill."

"She must be somewhere around Ivory Coast by now. She took a sabbatical to do charity work in Africa."

Vicuña took a few seconds to digest the news.

Eventually, his shoulders slumped a little, but the expression on his face remained carefree, almost forcedly so. "That is very noble of her. Pardon me for my mistake. I will leave you to your work now-

Sergio leaped to his feet before the man could fumble for the doorknob. "If the matter is about Paula, I'm more than happy to talk about it with you. I have been teaching her for the past few weeks."

Vicuña looked a little irritated now. "It is a matter especially related to señora Costales."

"Ah, forgive me."

Sergio saw him opening the door. His mind was working overtime trying to invent a reason for a longer conversation.

"Is there a chance señora Murillo is coming with you to the next parent-teacher conference? The one about the play?" He finally asked.

Vicuña halted.

After a moment of contemplation, he let the door swing shut behind him and turned to Sergio. The man scanned him from head to toe, taking note of every aspect of his appearance, spending a disconcerting amount of time boring into his bare ring finger before lifting his gaze again.

There was something cold in Vicuña's smile the next time he spoke. "How do you know my wife?"

After the first shock of hearing his accusative tone, irritation seeped in. Sergio had merely asked after the mother of one of his students. He'd done nothing to provoke a hostile reaction.

"Actually, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her. Which is why I asked, in fact," Sergio said, nudging his glasses up his nose. "I prefer to know both of the parents."

Vicuña lifted his eyebrows in mock confusion.

"I'm the one who takes care of any issues related to Paula's education, so I'm afraid there's no reason for her to talk to _you_."

Momentarily, Sergio struggled to keep a straight face. He felt inclined to remind señor Vicuña that his wife was her own autonomous person free to talk to her child's teacher if she so pleased, but refrained from doing so. Salva was a man eager to please and pacify, so he kept a sheepish smile firmly fixed on his face.

"Of course. Well, if there is anything related to Paula you ever want to discuss.."

"…I know where to find you," Vicuña finished, giving Sergio a rather condescending slap on the shoulder. "Pleasure to meet you, señor Martín."

Vicuña lifted his hand in farewell before turning back. Sergio smiled for a few seconds more until the door the man had exited through shut with a loud clack. Instantly, his face fell into a dark, contemplative frown.

He slowly took off his glasses, starting to clean their lenses with his sleeve as he considered Alberto Vicuña's distasteful character.

_Jealous and controlling_, made Sergio a mental note for himself. He supposed any member of the male sex would have had just as much success in befriending Vicuña, so he shouldn't blame himself.

There had been an effort, but there was little he could do about Vicuña's paranoia. He was of that repugnant ilk of men who projected their own misdeeds on their significant others. He was most likely cheating on his wife with Julia Costales, or at least trying to, and the only way the man could cope with his own reprehensibility was to assume his wife would sleep with half of Madrid given the opportunity.

He briefly felt sorry for Murillo for having such a lousy husband, but he shrugged it off. In the end, it was none of his business, and he couldn't afford to spend any extra time or energy fussing about her personal life.

As he gathered his things and prepared to return to the mansion, he couldn't help but feel a little disheartened. This had been another setback in a long list of them. He hadn't gotten even remotely close to Raquel Murillo, and it was starting to look the path he had set on would only lead to a dead end.

* * *

Another hindrance soon followed.

Apparently, señora Costales had offered to help with the children's play the school was putting together soon, and now that she was gone Sergio was expected to fill her shoes. This request was difficult to dodge after he had already emphasized how flexible his schedule was when it came to substituting her class.

On the plus side, the play would give him one last chance to get into contact with Raquel Murillo as both parents were expected to show up to watch Paula perform. The girl had been selected for the role of the fairy princess and couldn't have been more excited. She talked about it so much it was starting to border on classroom disruption.

If he was Raquel Murillo, he would be loath to miss it. But still, it was a slim chance, and he was a man who didn't leave anything up to chance. If she had no time to drop off her daughter at least once, how could he expect her to make it to the two-hour children's play?

But regardless of whether he wanted to give it a shot or not, there was one major problem; the play that would take place the night before the planned heist.

Thus far, he'd helped with the lights and the sets during rehearsals, but that night the whole staff would be present and ready to step in. There was nothing stopping Sergio from calling in and making up a stomach flu so he could stay at the mansion to prep his team for their upcoming ordeals. Attending would simply be cutting it too close.

He had deemed the wisest course of action was to focus his efforts on Ángel Rubio instead. He had already found out about one of the man's favorite joints to nurse his drink in until the last call. According to his research and the vague, displeased facebook posts of señora Rubio, the subinspector's marriage was slowly but surely shriveling. The man’s emotional state and his ever-growing drinking problem might prove to be useful. Sergio would seek him out during the investigation.

”Let this be a lesson for us all,” he said, standing up to give a speech during the last dinner the team would have together. "There are always unforeseen circumstances, and the most important thing is for us to adapt without losing our confidence."

Nairobi clacked her tongue. "So it's early retirement for you, Professor?"

"It's early retirement for all of us!" roared Denver with his glass raised. Others shouted and cheered in response, stomping their feet until the whole hall echoed. Tonight it was one glass minimum, but that didn't stop the atmosphere from being sky-high.

Sergio waited for the commotion to settle before continuing. "That's right. I'm going to work on an alternative strategy to gain information from inside the tent."

"How bad is it for the plan you did not manage to reach the inspector?" Rio asked, his voice a hint nervous.

"It makes it slightly harder for me to predict police behavior, but if we succeed in getting a mic inside the tent later on, that problem should be fixed."

"So all the time you put into those history lessons was for nothing?" Helsinki asked. "That is a damn shame."

The comment had a surprisingly visceral effect on Sergio. His whole body tensed up, but he did not allow others to see any difference in his expression.

"Tell us, who were better students, us or the children?" prompted Tokyo playfully.

"You wouldn't like the answer."

The group erupted in laughter which managed to crack out a smile from Sergio too. But a sense of uncertainty and discomfort had already settled inside his bones, reluctant to loosen its grip on him.

After decades of preparation in solitude, he liked to think that he had sorted out everything, considered every angle, rasped off the edges until the plan was cut like a flawless diamond. He _needed_ it to be something he could have complete and unwavering faith in. Otherwise, they would fail.

Yet here he was, prematurely celebrating with his team as if there wasn't still one thread hanging stubbornly loose even after weeks and weeks of attempts to sew it up. He had a harrowing feeling all of that work was wasting away with every second he spent here with a glass in his hand.

Somewhere, deep inside him, he knew the enigmatic inspector Murillo was the key to everything.

_Goddammit._

"Berlin, you are in charge," he said firmly, swinging his glass back on the table. "I will be back in a couple of hours."

"Wait, where are you off to now?" asked Moscow.

"You can't be serious. It is raining cats and dogs outside."

"Professor, we were just getting started here!"

Andrés let out deep, rumbling laughter as his response to Sergio violently tugging on his jacket. "Let him go," he said to others.

"But-"

"Say hello to the lovely inspector from me,” his brother called out just before Sergio disappeared through the door.

* * *

Sergio was already regretting his decision ten feet out of the house. The rain was belting on his back like a lash and blurring the lens of his glasses.

He ripped them off his head and dove into the red rental car he used as Salva. It was a 40-minute drive to the school during which the rain did not give in one bit. It seemed to be his punishment for leaving this decision to the last minute. He called the school, announcing he would be doing the play after all, and a millisecond after hanging up he clenched his eyes shut and cursed out loud.

He could bet the entirety of the two billion they were going to make against Murillo showing up. He felt like an utter moron.

Still, he drove on.

The parking lot by the school was completely packed with cars of the parents coming to see the play. By the time Sergio got there, there wasn't a single spot left. He was forced to drive around for a quarter-hour more to find somewhere to park and ended up finding a spot only on the other side of Los Pinos park. He had to run all the way across it to make it to the school on time.

When he was finally inside, his jacket was completely sodden and his hair was a wet mop clinging to his forehead. Worst of all, the play was just about to start. He had been counting on some time to mingle with the parents before the show and look for Murillo, but now his only choice was to pray he’d manage to find her afterwards.

_If she even was here._

He sneaked backstage. Without a single comment on his tardiness, one of the other teachers grabbed his shoulder, handed him a rope and told him to hoist down the linen the children had painted with flowers and cheerful forest creatures at the end of the play. That was his only job and frustratingly idiotproof at that which was not exactly elevating his spirits.

His position behind the right wing gave him a chance to peer at the audience, but in the dark gym, it was difficult to distinguish anything but dark shapes of heads.

At least it was fun to watch the children scuttle to the stage and do their best with the few lines they had been given. Emperatriz María elementary had taken special care to give each of them a chance to shine. Even after having seen the play rehearsed dozens of times, it was hard not to be charmed.

He smiled and gave thumbs up to Paula and other kids from his class after the concluding scene and prepared to lower the linen. The play had reached its happy ending.

Suddenly, the lights in the gym lit up, and he instinctively turned towards the audience.

And at that moment, he saw _her_.

She was the first of the parents to rise. The soft curls of her hair bounced with her as she got up to her feet.

Her brown hair was gilded by the light that had suddenly flooded from behind her, giving her a startling, angel-like appearance. She alone was standing, clapping, a radiant smile on her face. His eyes were drawn to her like to the brightest star in the sky.

Sergio remained frozen, staring at her, until a few seconds later the rest of the audience followed suit. Soon, she was surrounded by a mass of people everywhere around her, shrouding her in shadows. Yet, it was impossible for him to lose sight of her. It was as if she was the only one there.

He only broke out of his enchantment when someone forcefully rapped on his shoulder. Sergio realized he was still holding onto the rope with his clammy hands. Alarmed, he let go of it, causing the linen to fall down with a violent _swoosh_.

The parents let out a goodnatured, thunderous laugh at that. Sergio smiled sheepishly to the other teacher who shot him a murderous look in return.

All of the actors and crew filled the stage next, blocking his view. He ventured to the stage with the others, his eyes continuously seeking out her face in the audience.

Finally, he saw her again. She was still clapping, beaming with pride for her daughter. She was wearing dark trousers and an elegant, peach-colored blouse that exposed her shoulders. Her curled hair only partially veiled the bare skin.

Sergio felt lightheaded. He could never have imagined being _this_ overpowered by the relief of seeing her. It was almost surreal.

Some god must have smiled upon him because Vicuña was not there. There was an empty seat next to her where her husband should have been. His absence was more than Sergio could ever have asked for.

He almost wanted to leap off the stage there and then and go to her, but the parents streaming down to go talk to their offspring jammed every exit. He retreated backstage, skittered down the stairs and emerged out near the entrance to the gym. That too was completely blocked by people who were pulling on their jackets and fumbling with their umbrellas, ready to leave as soon as the play was over.

Some parents that recognized him from the parent-teacher conference stopped to talk to him which did not make the situation any better. Sergio discreetly bopped up his head while conversing, trying to catch a glimpse of Murillo. He was counting on seeing her come out of the doors sooner or later.

When the stream of people coming out turned into a trickle, he slipped back inside the gym only to find it almost empty. To his horror, another set of doors had been opened on the other side, apparently to relieve the overcrowding by the entrance. The last of the parents were walking out through it. Only some of the staff was left to clean up and converse amongst themselves.

Inspector Murillo was gone.

Feeling like a deflated balloon, he slumped down on one of the chairs that hadn't been stacked away yet and started violently rubbing his temples.

Sergio knew he could still catch up with her. She probably hadn't made it far from the parking lot. But under what pretense? It was a whole another thing to strike up a casual conversation about the play than to rush to her now with no inkling what to say.

Perhaps he'd know if he was only a fraction suaver than he was. Or if Murillo wasn't so…

_So much more than he'd expected._

He felt completely out of his depth. Rubio he could probably handle, and Sergio wished he was tailing him instead, striking when the man was at his weakest and lending him a sympathetic ear by a pint or two. _Women, amirite?_

Eventually, he forced himself up and looked around him to see if anyone had witnessed his private moment of defeat. His eyes fell on something striking in the sea of white plastic chairs. There was something black and tube-like laying at the foot of the chair Murillo had been sitting in.

_She had left her umbrella._

Sergio didn't have to think twice before realizing this was his chance. Possibly the only one.

He was by her row of seats with three leaps and made a rather graceless dive for the object. Fortunately, the rest of the staff was too busy talking to notice.

With a sense of impending success, he rushed after the last of parents streaming out of the gym. He forced himself not to resort to using his elbows even though the key to Murillo's audience was burning in his clutch. He could afford to be patient just for a few precious moments more.

He glanced out of the window as he came back to the lobby. It was not raining anymore, so she probably hadn't noticed the missing umbrella. He surged out of the twin doors of the school, hoping Murillo was still in sight. He had to jog across the parking lot to finally catch a glimpse of her.

She apparently hadn't come in a car and was walking hand in hand with her daughter on the sidewalk leading out of the school grounds instead.

"Señora!“ he called out.

She didn't seem to hear him. He was still far away and the noise from the cars pulling away from the parking lot drowned out everything else.

He tightened his pace, his eyes trained on the dark silhouette of the inspector. Suddenly, she stopped, let go of her daughter's hand and started rummaging through her purse. The reason became apparent to Sergio a second later as he felt the first raindrops fall on his face. Now she would definitely notice the missing umbrella.

"Señora Murillo!" he tried again, holding the umbrella in his outstretched hand. She whipped her head around, startled, and saw him just behind her. He only got a glimpse of her brown eyes before his vision went black.

His cheek made contact with the wet lawn. He found his arm twisted around his back and his lungs void of oxygen. He tried to force air back into his lungs as Raquel Murillo's knee pressed against his back, pressing him down. He felt her fingers dig painfully into his knuckles, forcing him to relieve the umbrella in his hand. It rolled on the ground from his palm.

Only then he realized he probably shouldn't have approached a policewoman from behind while waving a black, pointy object at her.

It was silent for a moment. Sergio concentrated all of his energy in breathing through his nose, hoping he wouldn't pass out. He couldn't have wriggled free even if he had tried. The woman was stronger than he ever could've presumed from someone with such a small figure.

Her daughter squealed in a way children often did when faced with something exciting. Almost by magic, the pressure on his back was gone and he was able to gasp for air again.

"I am so, so, sorry!" said Murillo in one horrified exhale. "I thought you were- God, it doesn't even matter! This is my umbrella. You were only trying to give it back."

"That would be it," Sergio croaked out from the lawn.

A hand wrapped around his shoulder, helping him to hoist himself up. Sergio did so with wobbly knees. His suit felt wet, and once he glanced down he discovered himself completely covered in grass stains.

Murillo was trying to clean one of those from his jacket in vain. As she violently rubbed his chest in an almost endearing panic, both of them getting slowly but surely soaked in the rain, he suddenly felt like laughing out loud. He could never have accounted for a first impression _this_ bad.

"You have no idea how sorry I am. I work for the police, you see, my training just kicked in and I had no time to think… Dammit, it's not getting out."

"It's alright." He tried to still her hand that was still frantically beating the front of his jacket. He brushed her wrist with his thumb. The motion shot an embarrassing little spark through him, reminding him how long exactly it had been the last time he had touched a woman.

Murillo finally stopped, yanking her hand away. "I- I will naturally pay for the dry cleaning. Let me just give you my card."

Sergio was starting to see how getting tackled to the ground had actually been a serendipitous turn of events as he saw her dig up her phone number. He tried to think of something suave to say, something that would make her remember him later when he called her, but his frantic train of thought was interjected by Paula's giggling.

"Mama wrestled down señor Stay-Alert. No one will believe this tomorrow."

He was confused for a few seconds before he realized the girl was referring to him. It seemed that he had earned himself an embarrassing nickname after only a handful of weeks teaching her class.

He couldn't fault the kids. Perhaps he had told them to stay alert too many times, both when they seemed interested in anything but the lesson, and when he wanted them to be observant of world events and see if they can catch any patterns similar to the ones they had learned about.

He kneeled at Paula's level, grinning. "Señor Stay-Alert? Is that how I'm known at school?"

Suddenly shy, the girl retreated behind her mother, but he could still see her grin peeking out from behind Murillo's blouse.

When he lifted his gaze again, he saw that the inspector's face had blossomed into a brilliant smile.

"I have been hearing a lot about you. You're my daughter's history teacher."

Now that he'd gotten a closer look, he could see she had a little piercing in her nose. It caused a strange leap inside his stomach.

Ignoring the disconcerting sensation, he rose again, smiling. "Salvador Martín at your service. And you must be señora Murillo. I saw you in the audience."

She blinked, as if not quite having expected anyone to notice her. Too late, Sergio realized he probably shouldn't have revealed that he'd paid any attention to her at all. But then he saw her smile again, and it drove off his anxieties like a gentle breeze.

"Please, call me Raquel."

The raindrops splashing against his glasses were starting to grow in size. Raquel saw him try to protect his vision with his hand.

"We're all getting soaked now. Let's get that umbrella open."

Sergio grabbed it from the ground where it had fallen. "Let me."

He fingered the button on the stem of the umbrella and managed to pop it open with a sudden and violent motion, almost hitting Raquel in the process. They both let out a nervous laugh while Sergio inwardly cursed himself. _If only he could manage to keep his inherent awkwardness at bay for one short moment._

No such luck. He held it over Raquel and her daughter's head which elicited another laugh from the woman. "Get in here too. I can't stand to see you getting even wetter for our sake."

"Ah, of course," he said, his neck burning up. He ducked under the umbrella. Suddenly, he found himself very close to Raquel. This was by no means a large shade, and he wondered if standing in the rain had been more preferable after all.

He found himself just a few centimeters shy of brushing her arm and did not know what else to do but smile nervously.

"Thank you for bringing it to me," she said. "And sorry, again. Please, let us walk you to your car with the umbrella so we can repay the favor."

"That is kind of you, but I parked quite a way from the school, behind the park."

"It's alright. We were walking in that direction anyway."

As they walked together through the park, he told Raquel about how the play had been put together and how well Paula had done in the rehearsals. The girl beamed like the sun when both of them praised her for tonight's performance.

"You taped my part, right, mama? I can't wait to show dad."

Raquel nodded, and the girl skittered happily ahead of them to splash in every puddle that came their way.

Sergio wondered why Vicuña hadn't been able to make it tonight and hadn't come to pick them up, forcing his wife and daughter walk home in the rain. The play had clearly meant a lot to little Paula.

It certainly didn't improve Sergio's opinion of him.

Thinking about Vicuña gave him an idea of how to segue to something that would come to interest Salva very much in the future.

"I don't see you often by the school. But that must be because of your line of work - up in the morning at the first rays of the sun to catch the bad guys."

"You make it sound more exciting than it actually is," she chuckled.

"I find police work very fascinating. It is so different from this boring, musty teacher's position that I can't help but be riveted every time I meet a cop. What you do is invaluable."

"I think teaching children is one of the most valuable and rewarding job there is," she replied.

Sergio happened to agree, although history was not the subject he had in mind when it came to his teaching career. But Salva, on the other hand, would have to object.

He began rambling. "But you risk your life for us ordinary people. You are in charge of public safety. I can't let you dismiss my compliment. Besides, you are a mother, and obviously a wonderful one, judging by your daughter. I don't think I have ever met someone who is doing two such admirable jobs at the same time, and on top of it all, you manage to be so incredibly b-"

Sergio caught himself just in time before making an ass out of himself. But perhaps too late. She looked away from him, but he could tell she was smiling.

He briefly considered ripping out his own tonsil and strangling himself with it.

Maybe he should work this into Salva's character - _so socially incompetent around women you can't help but pity him._

"Forgive me. I'm going to go drown myself into the nearest puddle now," he said, mortified.

"Please don't," she said softly. "You are very sweet."

"In that endearing but sad sort of way, or sweet as in _charming_?"

Raquel smiled enigmatically. "Charming."

_God in heavens._ He couldn't believe whatever he had just done - he wasn't quite sure - had worked.

He gave her a flustered smile in response, pushing his glasses up his nose.

They seemed to reach his car way too soon. He stood awkwardly by its side, fingering the keys in his hand until Raquel suddenly handed him her calling card.

"For the dry cleaning."

He had entirely forgotten about the card which he realized with some alarm. It was not like him to lose the sight of his objective.

"It's alright, this was one of my worse suits anyway," he protested.

"Please. It will be no bother at all."

Sergio got an idea. "How about if you treat me with a cup of coffee sometime soon? Then I'd count us as even. We could swap stories about our respective professions."

At first, Raquel smiled at the idea which he took as a good sign, but slowly, her face fell. She glanced at Paula who was playing in a nearby puddle, wringing her hands in an odd fashion before looking up at him again.

"Let's put a pin on that."

The most classic cop-out answer if there ever was any. He let his carefully controlled expression slip, and a frown peeked through. He quickly corrected it, but she must have noticed his disappointment because she suddenly started rambling, nervous and defensive.

"Of course I could, there is nothing wrong with-" she started, then trailed off quickly. "It's just that I am so busy. I sometimes work 12-hour shifts with only one half-an-hour break. I always spend it at this place near my work and it's rather miserable really, the only free time I have outside of my home. Not that the café is miserable in any way, it is quite nice there, at Hanoi. The coffee is cheap at least- But you don't care to hear about any of that. My point is that I'm pinched for time, and on my days off I just focus on my family."

"I understand," Sergio answered.

Raquel gave him a forced smile.

"Just call this number. My home number is probably in the school records, but I'd rather you use this one."

Sergio accepted the card with a nod. He didn't understand why he felt so disappointed. Her personal phone number was something he hadn't even dared to dream of when he'd arrived at the school.

Still, there was a gnawing, melancholy sensation in his chest when he opened his car door and slipped in.

"Thank you for sharing your umbrella," he called out through the window. "And Paula, you did great tonight. Be proud of yourself."

"Yes, señor Stay-Alert."

Sergio grinned.

"Once again, I'm sorry for tackling you down," said Raquel. "I hope we'll meet in better circumstances sometime in the future."

"Yes, let's hope so."

There was nothing else left to do but lift his hand in goodbye and turn on the engine. Raquel reciprocated the gesture, smiling wanly.

He stalled for a moment, watching Raquel turn and walk on with her daughter. The hollow feeling in his chest was aggravated by each step they took farther away.

Something cracked inside him.

He stepped on the gas, steering the car along the sidewalk they were walking on. Raquel turned her head, surprised, as she saw Sergio drive by their side.

Feeling bolder than ever in his life, he rolled down his window, not caring about the rain that immediately started lashing at his face.

"Your next workday. At Hanoi. Let me drop by during that miserable little lunch break of yours," he called out.

She opened her mouth, but he didn't give her a chance to protest.

"You owe me a coffee."

She pushed a few rain-sodden strands of her hair off her face, revealing a radiant smile.

"Okay."

What a simple but beautiful word it was. Sergio felt joy blossoming in his chest.

_I'll call you, _he mouthed, smiling, and rolled the window back up.

As Raquel and her daughter watched, he finally pulled away. He resisted the urge to look back at them.

Only when he was a safe distance away from the school did he slam his hand on the dashboard in triumph. He was grinning so hard he thought his mouth was going to split.

In the end, he had to pull over before he turned on the road leading to the mansion. He punched the air a couple of times, doing his best Rocky impression before slumping against the car seat, peals of laughter erupting from his lips.

The night had been, not to mince his own words, a success beyond _fucking_ compare.

He checked once more that Raquel's calling card was inside his pocket, and that he hadn't just imagined it. He started grinning again, and this time he wasn't sure if he would be able to stop before he had to go back to the others. That would just earn him merciless teasing.

But sooner or later, he did have to go in and make the final preparations because tomorrow they would turn Spain upside down.

He pocketed the card carefully. He almost felt bad about the nightmare that would be awaiting inspector Murillo in the morning.

Not that he should care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raquel struggles with Alberto, Ángel and the profound connection she discovers between her and Salva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking this long! I had to move apartments which took the majority of my energy to write. But here you have it finally. All comments were much appreciated, sorry I didn't have time to answer that time around. 
> 
> There are some allusions to domestic violence in this chapter. Hopefully, it's nothing too triggering.
> 
> And Spaniards, if you spot any inaccuracies, do let me know. I don't live in Spain but I do my best to research how everything works there. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> P. S. To the people well aware that Madrid has no trams - when I talk about trams in this chapter, I had Metro Ligero in mind 😅 I got the impression that it is kinda like a tram, but now I know better haha

Raquel supposed it was only natural that on her first day off in ten days, the phone would ring in the morning with an urgent call for her to come negotiate for the lives of 50-90 hostages inside the Royal Mint.  
  
She couldn't blame Alberto for not believing her at first. These kinds of things simply didn't happen in Spain. Only after her superior called her the second time and offered to send a car, did her husband finally realize she was not lying for the fun of it.  
  
"Finally, something new to chew on. When was the last time you got to investigate something this big?" Alberto asked, leaning against the kitchen counter as Raquel hurriedly prepared some coffee for herself before the car game to whisk her away.  
  
"Psychopaths with machine guns inside the Royal Mint? Sounds like a blast," she said dryly. Her tone proved to be a mistake only second later.  
  
"Why do you always have to act like such a sarcastic bitch these days? I'm just saying that anyone would rather be working on nailing these bank robbers than investigating yet another drunk driving incident. Or do you want to trade places with me?“  
  
_I'm sure that the current case of yours is riveting enough, you did choose it over your daughter's play yesterday, after all_, was what she wanted to say, but chose not to. Nothing good could come out of it.  
  
”Do you?” He shouted, angry at her silence.  
  
Raquel hadn't even realized how violently she'd flinched before she saw her husbands' aghast expression; he'd witnessed how she'd winced away from him and raised a hand in front of her.  
  
At once, Alberto was by her side and had taken her in his arms. He kissed her temple comfortingly, then her brow.  
  
”I’m so sorry. You know how I hate to raise my voice. It’s just the stress of this job, you know?”  
  
She didn't know if he was horrified by his own behavior, or because of the way her reflex-like reaction had made him feel. It was probably best not to dwell on it.  
  
Raquel mumbled something understanding into his shirt as stroked her hair and pressed one more kiss on the crown of her head.  
  
They heard the call pull up on the yard. Raquel pulled away, straightening her posture and adopting the cool professional mask she used for work.  
  
Alberto smiled down at her. ”My _patito_ off to catch the bad guys.”  
  
Raquel hated when he called her that. There was no world where it wouldn't sound condescending, especially when framed like that - but then again, it was just a pet name. There were worse things a marriage could entail.  
  
He continued. "How about I take you out to eat after you get off work? Somewhere nice for once. Like that new fancy place from the magazine you were reading."  
  
"All of downtown Madrid has been closed, Alberto."  
  
He made a dismissive hand motion. "These sort of things usually blow over in a couple of hours. And if it doesn't, you are going to have to duck out sooner or later. You're not going to let this stupid robbery change your whole life, are you?"  
  
Raquel shook her head.  
  
At that point, she'd believed it.  


* * *

  
It had to be the absurdest case of her career, and it was not because of the ridiculously ambitious robbery attempt in broad daylight, the Dalí masks, or the fact that she was essentially in charge of investigating one of the biggest crimes in Spain's history.  
  
No, it was none of that.  
  
What made this whole situation truly surreal was the fact that for the first time in her life, the hostage-taker had blatantly flirted with her, and she was not as outraged as she reasonably should be.  
  
_Definitely something new to chew on. _  
  
Shräe released her hair from its bun and touched the pencil with her lips, thoughtful. What was that sound she'd spotted during the call? It sounded almost like the rustling of paper.  
  
"There was background noise on the other end," she muttered aloud. She swiveled her chair toward Ángel. "Let's have an analyst look into it. It could prove valuable."  
  
Ángel made a noncommittal shrug. His glazed eyes revealed he was deep in some other thought.  
  
"How did the play go last night?" he finally asked.  
  
Raquel must have only mentioned her daughter's play once during the months leading up to it, and still, Ángel managed to remember the exact date. She didn't know whether it was touching or hair-raising.  
  
She gave him a weak smile. "It went well. Paula was great. And about that background noise-"  
  
"I saw Alberto at the crime scene of the Hernandez case last night. I can only presume he didn't bother to show."  
  
_Dear everloving God. Not now Ángel, not now._  
  
Raquel pretended to be completely enthralled by the computer screen in front of her, hoping in vain that her body language would make Ángel drop the completely inappropriate subject of her marriage - which unfortunately seemed to be one of his favorites.  
  
"I'm just not a fan of the way he treats you."  
  
According to Einstein, the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. She didn't know who was madder, Ángel with his ever-so-subtle comments about her marriage, or her, for expecting him to be professional for once in his life.  
  
"Alberto has made special arrangements with work so that he can always take Paula to school and home," Raquel said calmly. "That kind of concession sometimes requires him to be flexible when needed on site even off-hours."  
  
It took all of her willpower not to snap at him. If she had, she would have to deal with a kicked man-puppy more interested in making a show of his wound-licking rather than the actual investigation. Nothing would get done.  
  
"I'm just saying… I would have come. For you and Paula."  
  
Raquel felt like screaming.  
  
She deemed it best not to. She would surely get kicked out of the case if she buried her head in her lap and started howling like a lunatic.  
  
Perhaps she should have just badmouthed Alberto just as Ángel had wanted. After all, she wasn't exactly the first in line handing him the 'Husband of the year' award. A couple of 'You know what? I do deserve better's and Ángel would be satisfied enough to do his job for the rest of the _year_.  
  
She just couldn't believe that was a part of her job.  
  
Her phone rang, saving her from having to think of an answer for Ángel. The number was unknown.  
  
"Inspector Murillo," she answered, gesturing frantically to one of the over-eager technicians to stop recording her personal call.  
  
"Raquel," exhaled the familiar voice on the other end. He sounded out of breath.  
  
_Salvador._  
  
"Señor Martín," she exclaimed, standing up and walking away so that Ángel couldn't eavesdrop. "Is it the dry cleaning bill you're calling about?"  
  
It was the perfect timing. There was nothing more she wanted to do right now than talk to someone whose name didn't start with an 'A', even if it was about money.  
  
Besides, Paula's teacher had been one of the nicest men she'd met in a while, and she secretly hoped he wouldn't have forgotten about their coffee date. It had been ages since the last time she'd gotten to spend time with someone who wasn't family or a colleague.  
  
"Actually, I'm calling everyone I know in Madrid. Are you alright? Please tell me you're not the one they have sent right in front of those madmen's gun-barrels."  
  
Raquel bit her lip. Of course, this was the reason for his call. Like everyone else in the entirety of Spain, he had heard the news and was worried out of his mind. After all, he had no idea what was the actual position she had in the force. For all he knew, she could one of the policemen the robbers had shot.  
  
"I'm perfectly well, señor Martín. I _am_ involved in the investigation, but I couldn't be safer from where I am at the moment. I'm surrounded by police everywhere around me."  
  
"Thank God. And please, call me Salva. I'm señor Martín only to my students."  
  
"No, that would be señor Stay-Alert."  
  
She could hear the smile in his voice."Ah, you're right. I suppose I'll never live that down."  
  
He paused for a moment as if to gain courage, before asking his next question. "What exactly are you doing down there to stop those lunatics? If you don't mind me asking."  
  
The words tumbled out of his mouth so fast she got a feeling they had been waiting on the tip of his tongue for quite some time now. The man had to be dying of curiosity. Raquel couldn't help but indulge the poor man.  
  
"I negotiate for them. It's solely by phone, so you don't have to worry about me getting shot in action any time soon."  
  
More questions poured out of him. "And has it been going well? How many robbers do think there are? Are you close to getting them out?"  
  
Raquel did her best in giving him answers, mincing her words as much as she could. There was no use in giving a civilian like him rise to panic. Fortunately, Salva seemed satisfied no matter how few positive developments there was to recount.  
  
"This has been keeping all of us insanely busy, but we are handling this to best of our abilities," she added at the end.  
  
"I suppose I should withdraw my request to meet up for coffee then. When I talked about your next workday, I did not have a national crisis in mind," Salva chuckled nervously.  
  
"No, please don't," Raquel said in the next breath, the words falling from her lips before she could stop them. She clenched her eyes shut. "I mean, I would still love to see you, national crisis or no. It would actually be a welcome distraction."  
  
"Really?" Salva said after a minute, sounding flustered.  
  
It was as if he'd already been prepared for her to decline politely. By the sound of it, her 'yes' was something so surprising he'd lost the ability to talk. It was endearing.  
  
Raquel found herself smiling. In some another life, she supposed she would already be sweet on Salva. That kind of sincerity had always been irresistible to her. He was also kind and thoughtful and all-around charming - not to mention, ridiculously handsome.  
  
"Really," she repeated.  
  
"Well, lunchtime has already passed. Many, many hours ago, in fact. But if you want, I can accompany you to some other-"  
  
"Let's get a drink."  
  
The line was quiet for so long that Raquel thought she had crossed a line of sorts. How many women went for a drink with their daughter's elementary school teacher, after all? Besides infatuated single mothers of course, but she was neither of those attributes.  
  
Finally, he rasped out his answer.  
  
"Where are you right now?"  
  
"We have set up a tent at plaza Esquerdo. But we can meet at Hanoi."  
  
"I'll be there in 30. And don't even think about paying."  
  
"Hey, I was the one who ruined your suit!"  
  
" I won't allow a person in charge of keeping 67 of our citizens alive to buy her own drinks."  
  
"But-"  
  
"With all due respect, Raquel… shut up," he said warmly.  
  
She laughed. On that note, he hung up the call, and she lowered her phone. She only realized she was still smiling when she noticed Ángel was staring at her. Raquel ran her fingers along her lips, sensing their upward curve. For some reason, it just made her smile harder.  
  
"Who was that?"  
  
She pretended not to hear him.  


* * *

  
Fate had other plans than for her to make it to that meeting.  
  
Prieto told her the robbers had a Priority A person as a hostage, and suddenly, everyone and their mother were running like chicken without heads inside the tent and the police-restricted area. Suarez wanted his men to storm the place right at that second while Raquel and Civil Protection were doing their best to backtrack the operation. In what world would they be willing to risk the lives of the 66 other hostages just for the sake of one ambassador's daughter?  
  
But she didn't get a say.  
  
Before she even knew it, Alison Parker had called, GEO had withdrawn and the clock had struck 11 pm. It had been two hours since Salva's call.  
  
That was that then.  
  
Raquel sat on her desk and buried her head in her hands, feeling completely defeated.  
  
"How the fuck could they possibly know about Alison Parker?" roared Prieto to her general direction, caring little about her body language. "What kind of a bastard are we dealing with?"  
  
"What bastard are _you_ dealing with," Raquel corrected with a weary voice. "I'm out."  
  
"What the hell-"  
  
She rose on her feet and struck him with one last withering look. "I want nothing to do with this. I'm going home."  
  
Before he could protest, she marched out of the door. As she pushed past the plastic covering the entrance, she noticed that Ángel had followed after her with his shoulders squared. One of the ever-increasingly rare moments she was glad for his loyalty.  
  
At times like this, solidarity was a scarce and a valuable resource even when stemming from a place she didn't like to think about. Raquel gave him a weary smile which he reciprocated.  
  
__

* * *

  
"So what now?" he asked later as they were smoking and peering together at the exterior of the Mint.  
  
Raquel dug up her phone to check the time. It was 22:13. Paula had to be fast asleep already. If only she had realized to quit earlier in order to at least be able to read her their usual bedtime story.  
  
Preferably two hours earlier, said a small voice at the back of her mind. The thought of standing up Salva made her wince. The man deserved better.  
  
She scrolled through the string of half concerned, half angry messages Alberto had sent her. After she'd quickly typed why it had taken so long at work, he sent one of his usual requests.  
  
She sighed.  
  
When Angel looked away for a second, she snuck a selfie with him. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten to turn the sound off and the loud shutter sound startled him enough to look back at the camera. The result was him looking like an old man just woken from a nap beside Raquel. Good enough.  
  
Not bothering to explain herself, Raquel quickly sent the photo to Alberto and pocketed her phone.  
  
"I don't like that he is making you do that," he grumbled a second later.  
  
"He is not making me do anything," Raquel said quietly.  
  
Fortunately and almost miraculously, Angel didn't press. He only stared in the distance, sulking. She could only guess what was going on inside his head. Was he bothered by Alberto keeping tabs on her? Or did he not like being portrayed as an unthreatening presence in her life?  
  
Thank God her husband didn't know about Cercedilla. As sad as it was, Ángel was her only friend left. She'd hate to lose him.  
  
He offered to escort Raquel to the nearest taxi rank. As her thank you, she let him bum a smoke or two as they walked across the park. Just when she was trying to light her own cigarette, the lighter decided to malfunction. Right when she needed a lungful the most. Frustrated, she kept smashing the switch until the whole device slipped out of her sweaty hands.  
  
The lighter rolled away from them only to be stopped by a shoe stepping on it from the shadows. Raquel looked at it, confused, before lifting her gaze to take in the man which it belonged to.  
  
"Salva!" she gasped. The cigarette fell out of her slack mouth.  
  
He picked up the lighter from the ground, smiling. Suddenly, Raquel felt a compelling urge to explain herself.  
  
"I'm so sorry. We only got out now. It has been absolute chaos there-"  
  
"I figured. When you didn't show and more and more officers started rolling in, I thought something serious might be going on. Since you weren't picking up, I decided to see for myself if you were alright. I'm glad you are."  
  
"I didn't expect you to actually worry about me, not after the atrocious way I stood you up."  
  
"Oh no, I misspoke. I only stuck around to look for your car. How does punching holes in all of your tires sound for revenge?" he said, his eyes twinkling.  
  
"Luckily for me, I got a ride here."  
  
"Dammit, all that hard work wasted."  
  
They were both grinning ear to ear. It had to be distracting enough for Ángel to finally clear his throat. That snapped Raquel out of her happy trance.  
  
"Salva, this is my partner Ángel. Ángel, this is one of Paula's teachers," she introduced quickly.  
  
Salva reached out his hand.  
  
Ángel ogled at it as if it was something that had crawled out of the sewers. After a few seconds of this, Salva realized he wasn't going to shake his hand and snapped it back in an embarrassed fashion.  
  
"This area is strictly off-limits to civilians," Ángel said with a frosty voice. "How did you get in?"  
  
Raquel's head whipped toward Ángel, shocked at his callous attitude.  
  
Salva's eyes rounded like those of a little kid caught doing something wrong. "I- I just told someone I was here to see you and after patting me down so thoroughly that I expected a cigarette and a cuddle afterwards, they let me stay at the perimeter. I only snuck in when I saw you come out of the tent. I'm so sorry."  
  
Ángel's eyes narrowed. "Do you realize you just broke the law by doing that?“  
  
It took all of her willpower not to give the back of his leg a kick. Ángel was sizing him up like a perp, and it was the most insulting he could possibly do to a good man like Salva. He was as far from a criminal as he could be.  
  
"It's alright. Ángel is just horsing around, aren't you?" she said, giving him a pointed look.  
  
Salva gave him a nervous smile, sincerely hoping so. Ángel finally gave in and answered with only a half-affected one of his own. He didn't seem to want to go up against her today.  
  
"So, Salva," he began, rolling the name on his tongue like a made-up word. "What _did_ bring you to this crime scene tonight?"  
  
Raquel answered quickly for him. "We actually had plans to have lunch at Hanoi but had to postpone them… and postpone them again. He was only here to wait for me."  
  
"No harm done. I'm picking you up now."  
  
Ángel peered at him for a moment longer before curling his lips into a smile. "Hanoi actually sounds fantastic. I wouldn't mind something to nibble on at this hour. Mind if I tag along?"  
  
She and Salva exchanged quick looks. His expression told her all.  
  
The gears in his head looked to be working overtime in his effort to find a polite way to decline. Truth to be told, Raquel wasn't coming up with anything either. If she told him he'd better head home to Mari Carmen, he'd just snipe something about Alberto, and she didn't want Salva to witness that. She couldn't tell him they'd rather be alone either because that would make him suspicious.  
  
Not that there was anything to be suspicious about.  
  
"Fine," she eventually had to answer through gritted teeth. Ángel smiled, and to Salva's credit, he at least pretended to be fine with it.  
  
As all three of them walked toward Hanoi, Raquel wondering if she truly had any control over her free time, Ángel stopped being subtle about his doubts altogether.  
  
"So, how long have you been teaching Paula?"  
  
"Just a couple of weeks now."  
  
"Only that short of a time?" Ángel asked in mock surprise. "What did you do before?"  
  
"I've been in-between jobs," Salva answered, ill at ease.  
  
Ángel glanced at Raquel in a way that deemed that alone as proof of his questionable character. Raquel wanted to bite his head off.  
  
"Where did you study history?" was his next question.  
  
"At Complutense."

Ángel's eyes brightened as if he couldn't believe his luck. "How fun! One of my acquaintances studied history there too."  
  
Salva looked taken aback. "Really?"  
  
"Ana Vázquez. Do you remember her?"  
  
"Er…"  
  
" She is our age, this tall, long black hair. Everyone's friend. You must know her! You said Complutense, right?"  
  
Salva looked visibly uncomfortable at the interrogation. "Perhaps we studied there at different times."  
  
"Well of course," Ángel said under his breath.  
  
Raquel grabbed his arm and squeezed, hard. That finally shut him up, but he didn't hesitate to throw Raquel one last _I don't trust him_ look.  
  
She was starting to wish she had just called it a night by the time they turned to the right street. She didn't want to spend the rest of the schoolyear apologizing to Salva about the cross-examination he was about to undertake. He already looking miserable.  
  
But perhaps this was for the best. At least when Alberto messaged her again as he was bound to do, she could send another picture of her and Ángel instead of her and some strange man.  
  
A _metro ligero_ tram slowed down with a screech beside them. Salva glanced at it. Ángel was too used to the sounds of the city to pay any attention and just continued walking.  
  
"Inspector Rubio!" Salva suddenly called out. "What is on the other side of the road? Should we be concerned?"  
  
Ángel started and snapped his head at the direction Salva had pointed at. Raquel was just about to do the same when an arm clasped around her waist, and she was wrenched into the opposite direction.  
  
The next thing she knew, she was inside the tram, crushed against Salva's chest. She had just enough time to catch a glimpse of Ángel's dumbfounded expression before doors closed in front of them. The vehicle jerked into movement.  
  
"I think we made it," Salva exhaled.  
  
He stared at the shrinking figure of Ángel, looking just as amazed as she felt. Only then Raquel understood what had happened. Salva had seen a chance to escape in the tram and taken it.  
  
His muscular arm was still draped around her waist, holding her tight against him. His other hand was shakingly clutching at her shoulder. She found her own fingers curling around his elbow. They were pressed so firmly against each other it was as if no distinction between their bodies existed. His solid chest burned her like a hot stove, and freezed her in place at the same time.  
  
Raquel shuddered out a ragged breath. She felt shivers fluttering at the back of her neck. She didn't know whether it was the shock of being swung off her feet into a moving vehicle or the air conditioner inside the tram blasting freezing air down on them… though she didn't feel cold at all.  
  
Finally, Salva looked down at her and met her startled eyes. Only then he seemed to realize he was still crushing her against him. He let go of her at once, visibly swallowing.  
  
They exchanged one look. Then, at once, they both burst into laughter.  
  
"Did we just ditch my partner?" she found herself asking between giggles.  
  
Salva grimaced. "I'm sorry, Raquel. I truly am but… How can I be as tactful as possible?"  
  
Raquel smiled. She had a good guess about what he was trying to say.  
  
"Let's just say, I didn't come all this way to enjoy something to "nibble on" with your sour colleague."  
  
"I won't hold it against you. I don't know what's gotten to him today."  
  
Truthfully, she knew exactly what was twisting Ángel's panties into a knot, but she didn't want to burden Salva with that.  
  
"Well, I _was_ trespassing in a police-restricted area. With a case like this, I can't blame him for taking it seriously."  
  
"I think he's just stressed. We all are," Raquel tried to comfort, but it only caused Salva's frown to deepen.  
  
"I can't even imagine the pressure you're under. I have been following the news and the whole thing is awful. Just awful."  
  
Raquel couldn't blame him for being anxious. "We're handling it," she tried to comfort.  
  
"But nothing like this has ever happened before here-"  
  
"Which is why we have protocols in place. Sit down, Salva. I'll tell you how we're going to beat this."  
  
And she did.  
__

* * *

  
At first, he expressed a great amount of interest in the hostage crisis and everything that was going on behind the scenes. His eyes lit up whenever she revealed a new tidbit of information, but he was distracted. It seemed as if he wanted to know as much about the robbery as possible, but at the same time, he was constantly sidetracking himself without seemingly even noticing. The topic of the conversation kept sliding to her personal work history which he appeared to be more interested in, even if every now then he realized to ask another question about the case as well. It was as if he was ticking some mental boxes in his head. Raquel got a feeling he was just trying to be polite since that was what on her mind at the moment.  
  
It was almost amusing. Most people would have lost interest the second the topic veered off the Dalí-masked criminals with machine guns, but not Salva who was more enthralled in the tale of her first-ever case.  
  
"That was what finally got him to climb off the ledge. You should have seen my superior officer's face. The rookie had just set the record."  
  
"Amazing. You were a superstar right from the start."  
  
He sounded genuine, and Raquel didn't know why she was so surprised by it. She looked away to hide her smile. It felt good to be admired for once.  
  
"I don't know about that," she said modestly. "Maybe I was promising in the beginning, but I wouldn't call myself anything beyond average now. I just do my job and that's it."  
  
"Excuse my language, but that is bullcrap. After all that you've told me, do you seriously believe that?"  
  
Without meaning to, she let out a bitter laugh. "You know what? You must be the first person to give me any semblance of recognition in two years. It's not as rosy as you might think."  
  
At Salva's confused frown, Raquel continued. "I do like my job, it's just the other cops that make it a living hell sometimes. First off, there is the daily struggle of garnering even a single of ounce of respect from my subordinates. Then there is all the smiling and pleasing I have to do whenever the superintendent has a bad day so I don't end up stuck with shitty assignments for the whole month. To top it all of, here are men like Colonel Prieto from CNI who think they can take over my investigation just because the government has handed them bigger guns."  
  
"Then there is, of course, Ángel… " She rested her head in her hand. "God, I'm sorry. I'm just whining now."  
  
"He is in love with you, isn't he?"  
  
Raquel snapped her head up. "How did you know?"  
  
He shrugged, smiling. "There was something in a way he looked at you. I suppose it's understandable. He's been working with you for many years in a partnership that requires the kind of intimacy that comes with trusting your life in someone else’s hands. Besides, it helps that you are...”  
  
”Helps that I am what?”  
  
Salva didn’t answer, just looked at her in the same sheepish way he'd regarded her with the day before.  
  
”What, Salva?”  
  
”Raquel, I just pulled you into a tram to steal you away from your partner. I never do things like that. It doesn’t... fit the picture." He was silent for a moment, his brow knotted as if he was contemplating something troubling. Then his expression relaxed again. "Do you think just _anyone_ would have prompted me to do that?”  
  
Raquel's cheeks burned. "Now you're just trying to flatter me."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Their legs brushed together. The brief contact sent a pleasant rush up her body, filling her chest with warmth.  
  
Suddenly feeling inexplicably nervous, she closed off her body and pressed her legs firmly together. She folded her hands in her lap.  
  
”Well, you can probably imagine how hard it is to work with someone like him. He doesn’t exactly care to hide his feelings.”  
  
Salva frowned. ”That is not very professional of him.”  
  
”Tell me about it. It’s gotten to the point where the senior staff is making fun of it. ’Ice queen Murillo and her little puppy on a leash'. I hear snipes like that almost every day." The more she spoke, the more agitated she grew. ”I had a superior suggest that I should ’throw him a bone’ one day in front of the whole department. Do you know how humiliating it was? These are the same people I need to have complete faith in having my back-"  
  
Her throat closed up, and she had to stop before her voice broke.  
  
There was a burning feeling behind her eyelids. She didn't understand what was happening to her. She had almost begun simpering in front of a relative stranger - about her professional life, nonetheless. As if that was her biggest problem.  
  
Before she could apologize, Salva did something surprising. He leaned forward and clasped her fingers within his.  
  
”I’m sorry Raquel. I truly am. You don't deserve that kind of treatment."  
  
He brushed his thumb comfortingly over her knuckles. Their gazes met, and Raquel felt a novel kind of comfort wash over her. It was ludicrous at this early in their acquaintance, but she felt safe with him.  
  
_His eyes are so kind._  
  
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, breaking off the eye contact. "Thank you."  
  
He scoffed at himself. ”And I thought my job was hard for having to convince an unruly 7-year old from flinging balls of his own snot at the other kids during my history class."  
  
”Are you suggesting that my partner compares unflatteringly to a seven-year-old?"  
  
”Well, I’m not _not_ suggesting it.”  
  
Salva grinned. Raquel found herself thinking he had the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen on a man.  
  
Before she could dwell on it further, the tram halted with a sudden jerk, causing her to collide with his shoulder.  
  
"Last stop. Time to get off!" yelled the conductor.  
  
They had been so absorbed in their conversation that they had ridden all the way to the end of the line without even noticing. Raquel didn't know what to think of it. This was not like her.  
  
Salva stood up and made a chivalrous little bow, still holding her hand. Raquel let him help her up with a pleased smile.  
  
Together, they hopped off the tram and found themselves in Aravaca. It would be a hassle to get home from here, but for some reason, she felt far from worried.  
  
”Here is an idea. Let's trade jobs," Salva suggested as they strolled along a moonlit street, not particularly caring where their steps lead them. You can try your hand at my pack of monkeys while I attempt the same with… _your_ pack of monkeys."  
  
Raquel let out an embarrassingly loud snort and shook her head.  
  
”No? Well, in that case, I see no other option but for both of us to quit. Let's team up and start robbing banks instead. We'll start with Monaco and work our way to New York."  
  
Salva chuckled and pushed the glasses up his nose. However, he soon turned serious and glanced at Raquel.  
  
”I’m sorry. That’s probably a very inappropriate subject to joke about, considering everything that's going on. I didn’t mean to sympathize with-”  
  
Raquel waved her hand. "It's fine. Don't tell my colleagues, but if those robbers won't harm those hostages as they promised, they can drain the whole place for all I care."  
  
He laid a surprised look at Raquel. She shrugged. "My job is to keep people safe. Personally, I don't give a crap about some banks losing money. They can make more, and they will, no matter what's the outcome, and none of it's going to my salary or any public good. At least this way, the economy might see some actual growth if just the portion of all the wealth gets out. It's like a unique kind of Iiq-"  
  
"Liquidity injection!" Salva exclaimed. "That's exactly what I have been thinking too."  
  
Raquel smirked. "Great minds think alike. We would make a nice pair of Robin Hoods."  
  
Salva's eyes crinkled with delight.  
  
She sighed a moment later, her mind returning to the nightmarish investigation. "But alas, real bank robbers rarely have such noble goals. We can't really expect these Dalís with their machine guns to be gentlemen."  
  
"You're right," Salva murmured.  
  
A gust of cold wind brushed past them, making Raquel shiver. She wrapped her arms around her. The temperature was dropping as the night grew darker.  
  
Soon, she felt fabric over her skin. Salva had taken off his jacket and was now draping it over her shoulders.  
  
She first thought about protesting, but the simple gesture made her feel even warmer than the wool of the jacket that she simply couldn't reject it. She looked up at Salva gratefully. He shrugged, looking away.  
  
She realized she should probably check the time. She dug up her phone only to notice Alberto had blown it up with messages.  
  
Raquel felt a stab of guilt. It was almost 1 am, no wonder he was worried. She was just about to call him and tell him where she was when another text arrived.  
  
_Who are you with? You need to answer me now or else._  
  
Anger sparked inside Raquel. She pushed her phone back into her pocket with shaking fingers. If that was the first place her husband's mind went instead of actual concern, she wouldn't deign to answer.  
  
"Is everything okay?" Salva asked after seeing her expression. "If it's your husband, tell him not worry. I can call you a cab-"  
  
"Oh no, he doesn't mind. He will only start worry if I'm not there by the time he wakes up," she lied.  
  
Salva hesitated for a moment before asking his next question.  
  
"In that case, may I see you home? It's a beautiful night and I wouldn't mind talking a little longer with you."  
  
Raquel did not hesitate at all before replying.  
  
__

* * *

  
What was supposed to be a 50-minute long walk home turned into an hours-long stroll. Gun to her head, Raquel wouldn't have been able to say where all they'd been and whether they were making any meaningful process toward home. One street or pathway simply turned into another as they kept on talking, hardly even noticing the time passing.  
  
Finally, they stopped at an extremely cruddy-looking hotdog stand after Raquel had heard Salva's stomach rumbling. The bread tasted stale and the sausage like plastic, but Raquel didn't mind. She only kept on laughing as hotdog sauce dripped down between her caged fingers, and Salva did the same. She felt so happy she might explode.  
  
This wasn't the first time she'd felt like this tonight. At odd moments, she'd woken up to the realization that she hadn't felt this light and carefree in years. It was almost intoxicating.  
  
"I swear, I wouldn't have taken you out if I knew you were going to poison me," he said, his mouth still half full of the atrocity that was their meal.  
  
"So you are the one taking me out? Does that mean you are paying me back for the hotdogs?“  
  
"This doesn't count as food, Raquel. Nothing you can eat with your fingers counts."  
  
"I didn't realize you were such a snob about food."  
  
"I'd moreso describe myself as having 'refined taste.' But don't take my word for it. Come to dinner and I'll knock your socks off with my cooking."  
  
Raquel shook her head incredulously. "I can't believe you cook too. You read, you play piano, you box, you know martial arts and several languages... Is there anything you can't do?"  
  
"Many, many things," he chuckled, embarrassed. "Let's just say that I have spent a lot of time in solitude to learn all these skills. I wouldn't say it's always a good thing."  
  
Raquel was silent for a moment. She studied Salva carefully. His worn suit, his calloused hands, the lines around his mouth, the touch of sadness in his eyes. She knew there was something he wasn't telling her.  
  
"You never went to Complutense, did you?" she asked.  
  
Startled, Salva turned to look at her. When he saw she was asking in earnest, he hesitated for a moment before shaking his head somberly and sadly. He looked away before speaking up again.  
  
"I was hospitalized for most of my adolescence and early twenties. The same illness took my mother. The degrees I earned where through a special program for people unable to attend the university. My intention wasn't to deceive you or your partner. It's just... Sometimes I'd rather lie than have people pity me."  
  
That was something Raquel knew far too much about.  
  
"Would you believe me if I said I don't think of you any differently?" she asked.  
  
"I would be... Mildly skeptical. But it's alright. I'm glad you know the truth." He swallowed. "You're not someone I want to lie to. "  
  
When asked, Salva talked more about his childhood, his mother and brother, his father that had been a history teacher too whose footprints he was following now. With every word he trusted with her, Raquel could see him visibly unwind. The burden he was carrying was chipping away.  
  
Raquel suddenly started to feel the burn of the phone in her pocket. It was hard not to feel dishonest after the way he had opened up. But what was there to even talk divulge about her own troubles?  
  
After all, _it_ had only happened twice. Nobody raised a fuss after only two incidents.  
  
The first time was an accident. The second she couldn't excuse, but she could forgive it. It was only the third time that counted, and that she wouldn't let happen. That was what was always said, in any case. Three strikes and you're out.  
  
Besides, it was not as if it was something that defined her - despite never really leaving her mind. Salva didn't need to know.  
  
He startled her out of her thoughts by his next question. "What about you?"  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes. Where did you grow up? You haven't told me yet."  
  
Raquel let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Haven't I? It feels like you already know everything about me. I have been blabbering all night. You don't want to hear about my boring upbringing in the Basque county."  
  
"You grew up there too? See, Raquel, I don't know everything about you. One night just wasn't enough."  
  
Salva's use of the past tense puzzled her until she glanced around her and saw the dawn breaking in the horizon.  
The sun was rising. They had truly talked through the night.  
  
She felt a dreary lurch in her stomach as she realized she didn't want this night to end.  
  
She wondered whether Salva felt the same.  
  
"I could tell you," she began in a wistful voice. "But I'd hate to take your time in case there's someone waiting for you back home."  
  
The statement was pitched like a question which he took less than a second to respond to. "I don't have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Not even a pet."  
  
Raquel didn't know why she was so relieved to hear that.  
  
"Oh, good."  
  
A mortifying pause followed.  
  
"Not that I take delight in you not having anyone. Any girl- or guy would be lucky to have you. You're kind, smart and handsome, the whole package really, and still you choose to be here with me..." she rambled, hardly even processing all the embarrassing observations she'd let out of her mouth before Salva cut in.  
  
"I'm going to stop you right there. Not just because you're making me blush and I'd like to retain my cool and confident image in front of you… but also to return the compliment." He looked her softly in the eye. "Your husband is a lucky man."  
  
He was watching at her in a way she couldn't decipher, but she knew for a certainty that her heart was about slam out of her ribcage if she held his gaze for one second longer.  
  
"We're actually not too far from my house now, so I'm going to release you in any case," she stammered out, ducking her gaze.  
  
"Yes, of course," she heard Salva say.  
  
They spent the rest of the way in comfortable silence - at least it was that for Salva who had absent-minded smile playing on his lips as they walked on. Raquel, on the other hand, was silently suffering. _Just a few hundred meters and she'd be home. Three hundred meters along this street and..._  
  
She felt a chill go through her. It was probably only the wind. Luckily she had…  
  
"Oh, I almost forgot. Your jacket!"  
  
Raquel tugged it off her shoulders while Salva watched, frowning. When she handed the garment back to him, he began, hesitantly:  
  
"I was hoping…  
  
Raquel knotted her brow in confusion. He continued with a soft voice.  
  
"I was hoping you'd forget and I would have to come back for it. Just so that I'd have an excuse to see you again. I want to take you out properly next time."  
  
There was a sense of calmness and composure to his words that suggested that he'd been thinking little else but that throughout the night. A bashful smile then spread over his face which finally did it for her.  
  
It was as if Raquel had been ambushed with a flamethrower. Her cheeks were burning, along with her chest and every inch of her skin that air was able to touch. She had to be as red as a tomato. But in her defense, it had been years since someone had made her feel this wanted.  
  
And that was exactly the problem.  
  
It was clear it was romantic interest he was expressing, and just as clear was that she had to turn him down, no matter how flattered she felt or how pleasant the warmth swirling inside her at the moment was.  
  
It was a shame because she genuinely liked him and wanted to see him again. She almost wished he hadn't said anything, just so that she could still pretend whatever he wanted from her was wholly platonic and they could do this again.  
  
But in the end, another night like this had been too good to be true.  
  
She had unconsciously begun to fiddle with her wedding ring as she considered her answer which Salva noticed.  
  
As if having read her thoughts, he hurriedly sputtered out: "Of course I didn't mean to imply that… Uh.. this is not me trying to make a pass at you. You are married and would never-"  
  
"It's alright."  
  
"No, it's not. I've made you uncomfortable. What I meant to say is that I want to see you again - as a friend. Strictly as a friend.  
  
Hesitation had to be plain on her face because Salva hurried to continue, taking one step closer to her.  
  
"You cannot deny that tonight wasn't something extraordinary. I feel shaken to my core, Raquel. I never expected to meet someone like you, a kindred soul - you must feel it too. I saw it from your eyes when we were talking in the tram. This has never happened to you either, has it? We have spent only one night talking but I feel like I have known you for my whole life."  
  
The more he talked, the more vigorously she'd begun nodding. "Yes, yes! I feel it too."  
  
Salva's shoulders slumped in relief. It was as if it was the only thing he'd ever wanted to hear in his life.  
  
"I'm sorry about stumbling with my words earlier. I wish there was a protocol for me here," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "How are adults even supposed to do this? I can't sneak you a little paper slip with 'Be my best friend? Circle yes or no' written on it, can I?  
  
She had an odd urge to burst into giggles. Absurdly enough, she truly felt like a schoolgirl just about to make a new friend on the playground.  
  
Raquel felt just childish enough not to give him a proper adult answer. Instead, she snapped off a branch from the nearest bush. As Salva watched, she wrote two words on the soil. One of them she circled multiple times, swinging the branch around almost violently.  
  
Salva looked at her answer and beamed like the sun.  
  
"So, Ye5?"  
  
"Oh, shut up."  
  
The next moment, they were both laughing like a pair of kids. _God, he made her feel young._  
  
"I'm so happy we met," she couldn't help but exhale.  
  
Salva reciprocated her smile. "Right?"  
  
He surged forward and took her fingers within his, excited. Raquel's heart leaped in her throat. A moment later, he seemed to realize how he was holding her hands and dropped them.  
  
"Tomorrow. Whenever you get off work," he said quickly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Your husband-"  
  
"Won't mind."  
  
It came out too quickly to be true. Still, he smiled.  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
"I won't be taking your jacket though. You need it."  
  
She took one step closer to him and fasted the jacket over his shoulders. She thought she saw Salva shiver as her fingers accidentally swept over the skin of his neck, but it must have been her imagination. Or a shudder of fear. She had tackled him to the ground and pressed her knee against his back, after all.  
  
After a moment of consideration, he took off his watch and handed it to her. "Take this instead."  
  
"Your watch?"  
  
"As insurance. You'll know for sure I won't be standing you up, and I definitely won't let you do the same for me."  
  
Raquel turned the device in her hands. It looked extremely valuable. _He really, really wanted to see her again._  
  
Raquel felt a rush of warmth spread over her chest yet again.  
  
They gazed at each other for a while longer, neither of them really wanting to part.  
  
"Goodbye, Raquel," he eventually whispered. She found herself loving the way her name sounded on his lips. It had never quite seemed so nice before.  
  
"Goodbye, Salva."  
  
And after that, he smiled and turned away.  
  
Raquel was left staring after him, his watch still in her hands. At the silence of their parting, she was finally able to distinguish the faint buzz of her phone again.  
  
She clenched her eyes shut. Time to face the music.  
  
She took the phone out. She had one missed call and a voicemail from her superintendent. He probably wanted to ascertain she was coming in tomorrow like the loyal little scapegoat she was. She deleted the message without listening to it.  
  
Two missed calls and five angry texts from Ángel. He didn't seem to have found her little escape very amusing. His latest message was an apology for calling her a callous bitch in presumably one of his earlier messages and a request for her to call him as soon as she was home because he was worried and didn't trust 'that slick bastard'. She didn't bother to reply.  
  
Lastly, 18 missed calls, 4 voicemails and 32 text messages from her husband. It seemed that he'd tried contacting her every 20 minutes. She felt a shudder run through her.  
  
She didn't dare to look at the messages. What was the use? She was going to get screamed at when she stepped a foot inside her home anyway.  
  
She pushed the phone deep inside her pocket, far away from her mind as she turned to the path leading home.  
  
She couldn't help it. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Salva.  
  
She saw him in the distance. There he was, staring at the stars above with his hands thrust into the pockets of his jacket. His gait was slightly faltering. If she didn't know any better, she would assume he'd had just a little bit too much to drink last night. He looked _dazed_.   
  
She couldn't suppress a smile. Such a strange man. Such a strange, wonderful man.  
  
Raquel skipped along the street with a soft, fluttery eddy in her stomach, almost not caring about the terrifyingly bright lights flooding from the windows of her house; Alberto had waited up on her.  
  
She squared her shoulders and walked in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raquel asks for Salva's help. Sergio briefly reconsiders his attachment to Raquel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would normally apologize for the long hiatus, but you probably know the drill already haha. I hope a longer chapter will be of some comfort.
> 
> Warning: There are allusions to domestic violence in this chapter.

The door didn't open with the second yank, nor the third.

Sergio gritted his teeth. Trying to ignore the cold sweat that had already matted his hair flat against his forehead, he gathered all of his strength and wrenched at the rusty door again.

This time, it gave in. He stormed inside the hangar with the frenzy of a jockey on the final furlong. He stepped in a puddle, thoroughly soaking his only pair of good shoes and almost stumbled over a chair before finally vaulting himself to the desk where the red phone was insistently ringing.

He yanked the receiver up and slammed his other hand on the desk for support. He'd run all way from the nearest parking spot which happened to be over 2 kilometers away, and he was afraid of his legs giving up any moment now.

"Professor?" asked the terse voice Nairobi on the other end of the line.

"Yes, Nairobi!" he exhaled. "Just in time for the six o'clock check-up. I trust everything is going according to the plan?"

"Just in time? It's 06:26. This is the sixth the time we tried calling."

"Is it?" Sergio clenched his eyes shut. He'd anticipated being late but had hoped against it. After he'd left the car, he'd had no way of knowing the time without his watch; the exact item he'd impulsively decided to give to Raquel.

That detail he'd rather not disclose to his team.

"The only reason I persisted was because of genuine worry," Nairobi said, lowering her voice as if to conceal the words from someone else listening. "You missed the midnight call. Denver was ready to quit right there and then, thinking the feds were already waterboarding you."

"I was.. held up, but now I'm back. I trust Berlin was able to make him hear sense. Where is he anyway? You're not the one supposed to take these calls."

"There was some trouble with one of the hostages. The manager of the bank, Arturo Román attacked him. Came from the back and tried to strangle him with his shoelaces."

"His shoelaces?"

"Yeah, we don't know what he was thinking _either_. Berlin knocked him out. I think he's now out there, deliberating whether to hang him with those same shoelaces to set an example for the rest of the hostages."

Sergei pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing deeply. _He'd missed only one call. One call._

"Get him to me. Right now."

After a long while of silence and shuffling noises, the receiver was finally picked up again.

"Look who decided to pick up," said Andrés' dry voice.

"Please tell me you haven't killed any hostages."

"This is about Arturito, I presume. Rest easy, I wouldn't dare to disrespect your orders. That is, now that I know you're alive and well. In a scenario where our leader is down, well, rules may need to bent to make way for a more ruthless plan B."

"The only place for you to improvise is when 24 hours have passed without contact. As I told you, these communication gaps are bound to happen."

"Not this early in the mission. Where were you?"

"I was with Inspector Murillo."

It didn't take long for an answer very suited for his brother to arrive.

"I salute you, Checo."

Sergio could almost hear the grin on his brother's voice.

"Please don't," he said sternly. "I did spend the whole night with her - but for information extraction purposes. She was so willing to talk I now know more about her than my research could ever have yielded. Believe me, she would have sung every single detail about their investigation if only I had asked."

Sergio paused, swallowing. An irritating tautness had appeared in his chest. He hadn't even dared to dream of her being that unsuspecting, but it felt somehow wrong to rejoice in it. The poor woman had had no reason not to trust him.

"Perfect. It was a good call for you to go for the most gullible one. But if she really was putty in your hands, why _didn't_ you do that?

The knot in his chest tightened, making Sergio push the phone a little farther away from his ear. Talking about her in this manner made him feel dirty in a way he couldn't explain.

"It was not as if I was playing her the whole time. We made a real connection, and that was what made her inclined to open up to me," he said, trying to soften his former words.

Andrés didn't answer. Slightly bothered by the silence at the other end, Sergio continued quickly.

"She's not like the other cops. She abhors the big banks just as much as we do, Andrés. She is as sharp as a whip and good at what she does. She would have made a great addition to the team if she was on the other side. Besides, she's just… lovely. I really enjoyed talking to her."

Still, nothing. Andrés hadn't been this frostily silent with him ever since they were kids and Sergio was explaining to him why he found the study of entomology in many ways, preferable to Seven Minutes in Heaven.

"I was able to spend the whole night listening to her. I trust you realize that opportunity was valuable enough for me to miss one check-up."

There was a long, pregnant pause before Andrés finally replied.

"You talked the whole night with her?"

When Sergio didn't answer, he continued with a dry voice. "I don't mind you spending a night or two with the lovely _Inspectora_, and you know I wouldn't tell the rest of the team. However, I'd hate to discover you one day taken out by that policewoman after spilling some delicate information while picking out china together."

Sergio fought against groaning out loud. "Let me get this straight. You are _gracious_ enough to allow me to sleep with the woman who could put all of us in prison and even congratulate me for it, but talking with her in a nonsexual manner is where you draw the line?"

"Based on what I'm hearing and knowing you, yes. Please, do not elope with her and leave us in the ditch. After all the work you did, it'd be so _very_ disappointing."

After a moment of digesting the offensive request in silence, Sergio hissed out his answer."It's insulting for you to even suggest that. I'm not _you_."

"We're our father's sons. The same blood runs fiery in our veins, dear Checo."

Before Sergio could answer, Andrés hung up. He was left staring at the receiver, stupefied.

He'd assumed that as the brain of the operation, he would never have to experience being cut off like this. Perhaps it was a mistake to pick just the person who'd have no qualms doing that as the head of the team.

He lowered the receiver, deep in thought. His brother clearly had the wrong impression about his and Raquel's relationship, but he had still given him something worth contemplating. Had he went unnecessarily far to gain her trust?

After a moment of thinking about it while studying the footage of his team herding the hostages, he deemed that he hadn't done anything wrong. Gaining Raquel Murillo's trust had always been his objective, and being shaken by how fast and effortlessly it had happened would just be an amateur mistake.

The closer he was to her, the better. And if that meant spending more time with a person he already found interesting, he was happy to seize the opportunity.

* * *

It had never been such a relief to go to work.

Sure, Ángel was giving her the silent treatment, some men from her department couldn't stop commenting on how much make-up she was wearing today, Prieto kept referencing "her time of the month", and her body was on its way of completely shutting down after only 20 minutes of sleep before her superintendent had ordered her to take the case back - but it was still better than the alternative.

Besides, there was something new in the air.

She was smoking outside of the tent, trying her hardest to erase the morning's events with Alberto from her mind, only to be interrupted by Prieto himself with three of his men in tow, informing her about the oncoming call from inside the Mint.

It was the third call of today.

For the first time in her life, men from technicians and low-level detectives to high-ranking military officers were cowering at her feet. She was the only one capable of speaking to that dangerous man with some hope that they would come through at the end. They all depended on her which is why Prieto didn't raise his voice when she took her time putting out her cigarette and disposing of it properly.

For once, Raquel truly felt like she was in charge.

She was already pulling her hair into a bun as she walked back to her desk. People around her parted like the Red Sea to let her through to it, their wide eyes full of fear mixed with respect. She would be lying if she claimed it didn't feel nice.

With her lucky pen snug in its place, she put the headphones on and nodded to the technician.

"Seven rings? You're starting to play hard to get,_ Inspectora,_" the Professor said as soon as she picked up the call.

"And you sloppy. Are you calling to finally comment on the picture we managed to take of Aníbal Cortés?“ she answered calmly.

She heard a disappointed sigh on the other end. "Perhaps I'll indulge you once we have gotten the food and the medicine promised. But I'd rather not focus on something so trivial now."

"What did you call about then?"

After a moment of silence, his languid voice pierced the air again.

"Tell me inspectora, what kind of men do you like?“

Raquel sucked in her breath. She wasn't sure what she had expected. As she evaluated the wisest way to answer the taunting question, she cast a sideways glance at the men around her.

Prieto was pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes screwed shut, his lips soundlessly moving as if praying for strength. Angel, on the other hand, had twisted his head to stare at her, the rest of his body still angled toward his desk. He looked like an owl that had rotated its neck 360 degrees. If he tried any harder to catch her answer, he would unhinge his head.

"What kind of men do any of us like?" she finally answered. "Someone who can make me laugh. Good looks certainly wouldn't hurt. Clever. Kind. Charming."

The stranger was silent for a moment as if pausing to digest her words.

"I see you have a healthy set of standards, _Inspectora._ In fact, I find it interesting how perfectly you have described me. However, I must warn you: I'm not your dream date. That fantasy man would perhaps overlook the intervention of three elite corps from yesterday, but not me. Forget how this usually goes - it won't be a rush job this time. "

Suddenly, she remembered Angel's words. _Tell me, what sort of lunatic with 60 hostages thinks about teasing his negotiator?_

Quite an extraordinary lunatic, as it would seem.

Loath it was to admit, whenever she picked up the receiver she felt like she was entering an impenetrable bubble. A space where no one but her and him existed.

Inwardly, she was smiling but it was better not to reveal to the men beside her how much she was truly enjoying this.

She felt like a chess player planning her move against someone much more skilled than he let on. Something told her that this was something much more than a simple robbery and she secretly reveled in that knowledge. Perhaps she was more perceptive than the 'Professor' had assumed and the scale was tipped in her favor. But there was really no way of knowing, which made everything more thrilling.

Whatever this game was, she'd play along.

"_Profesor_, Are you saying that you'd be able to make it longer and better for me than your average man?" she asked, her voice a hint sultry.

The following silence was heavy and instantaneous. If her ears didn't deceive her, she could hear the faintest inhale of breath on the other end of the line. _Oh_. She had taken him aback.

Flirt back, she made a note for herself, not even trying to suppress her smile. Prieto was glaring daggers at her back, Suarez didn't know where to look and Angel's reaction resembled the one of a Christian housewife.

"You're right, _Inspectora_," the man finally answered after an interestingly long pause. "Which is why I'm telling you never to attempt that again."

He hung up. No teasing end words this time.

"Not once in my goddamn life-" Prieto immediately started ranting somewhere in the background. "Our hostage negotiator flirting with the terrorist…"

He stormed off, steaming, with Suárez in his tail. Raquel didn't care. Nobody could claim she hadn't won this round.

After Raquel had let her hair fall back down, Ángel swiveled his chair toward her.

He was staring at her with such a disapproving look that she was reminded of the stern teachers of her childhood. Just looking at him made the beginnings of a migraine bubble in her head.

"Quite a show you put on there," he commented.

"Just playing by his rules."

He was deathly silent for a while, making her hope that was it. But to no avail.

"You haven't been yourself recently, Raquel," he noted.

Lord. She didn't have the energy for this.

"Well, thank you for your opinion, but I feel perfectly like myself."

"No, this is not you. Suddenly you're ditching people and running around with strange men while your husband waits at home."

She had to bit her tongue in order not to retort _You'd have no problem if you were one of them._

"I've been looking into that Salva guy, by the way. Did you know his name hasn't been in any records before the last two years? Believe me, there's something shifty about him creeping around the police-restricted area like that and trying to chummy it up with you."

Raquel almost cackled out loud at the ridiculous notion, but had no opportunity before Ángel continued in the same breath: "Not to mention that new look of yours."

Raquel snapped her head toward him. "What do you mean?“

"Well, all that make-up you have caked on your face... It's ridiculous. You look far prettier without."

It was as if a fuse blew inside her. The change from the irritated but calm exterior to fury was instantaneous, and there were no stopping the next words flying out of her mouth.

"You know what, Angel? Go fuck yourself."

His reaction was extreme enough to be comical. His eyes bulged out of his head and his jaw went slack as if Raquel had just ripped off the skin of her face to reveal a lizard head.

Normally, she would have immediately regretted snapping at him after seeing the shock on his face. He was so clueless it was like yelling to a child. But today, she didn't care. The man had lived long enough on this Earth to have learnt that you reap the shit you sow.

She felt a strange sort of pride coursing within herself, but there was also nervous lump quickly rising up her throat. If her lovesick puppy of a partner can make her so upset, how would she handle the rest of the big boy league without getting fired today?

* * *

Three hours later, the head of Civil Protection marched inside and demanded everyone who had slept less than five hours since the start of the hostage crisis to go home. His eyes bored espicially on Raquel.

"I don't want to see you back until tomorrow morning. Good god woman, get some rest."

She felt a little guilty for leaving with the rest of the workaholics, considering the fact that the reason she had stayed up all night wasn't even remotely work-related.

Only after she was in the bright sunlight could she appreciate the order to go home. It was only two. For the first time in forever, she would be home when she came from school. The thought filled her with invigorating joy.

The feeling was soon surpassed by another. With Paula would come Alberto.

Her stomach suddenly felt like it was lined with lead.

She tried to keep herself collected for long enough to be able to climb in her car. But the further away she drove from the Royal Mint, the higher the bile rose in her throat, clogging it. By the time she had turned to the road leading home, her breath was rushing out of her throat with uncontrollable speed. At the same time, her heart was trying to slam out of her chest.

_No, no, no. Not now. She couldn't have a panic attack in the middle of the road._

The car stopped like at a wall. Her feet had slipped off the gas.

_Breathe_, she told herself. _It's not like it's going to happen again. You saw how sorry he was in the morning, didn't you?_

Fortunately, there were no cars behind her. She had just enough time to still her shaking hands by burying her face in them. _Besides, it's your fault. You were the one who spent all night with another man. No wonder he was upset._

_Not that he knows it was a man. She wasn't stupid enough to tell him. If he'd known, he would have done something far worse than just-"_

Oh god.

She couldn't even finish the sentence in her own head.

Those words would put her into a box she didn't belong. She wasn't one of those women she frequently encountered in her line of work. She had no right to compare herself to them. They had gone through something far worse. They weren't able to cover everything up with a thick layer of foundation. Their partners didn't sob for hours and beg for their forgiveness. They couldn't count the incidents with the fingers of only one hand.

Yet, there she was, a strong, capable investigator hyperventilating in her car - unable to go home as if Alberto was the sort of a monster from her cases.

What a joke she was.

A car tooting behind her startled her awake from her trance. Raquel pressed on the gas. From the next intersection, she pulled aside from the road to ponder over her situation with a calmer mind.

She couldn't go home or work. Acknowledging that made her feel weak, but there was no use beating around the bush unless she wanted to have another panic attack.

_But where could she go?_

The idea struck her like lightning. She yanked the glove compartment open and dove for Paula's schedule she kept there.

Tears of relief almost sprung to her eyes as she saw it.

HISTORY 14:00-14:45

Classroom 309, Sr. Martín

* * *

Somehow, she felt more insecure than ever walking through the empty hallways toward classroom 309.

She was working hard to convince herself that she had a good reason for coming. She wanted to see her daughter and that was only possible before Alberto came to pick her up. The fact that Salva with is infinite sweetness and warm brown eyes happened to be there too was merely a bonus.

Still, her insides were boiling.

They had already made plans to meet again. So why did she feel like a little girl again, shit-nervous before her first-ever school dance?

She finally caught the sight of number 309. The room to the classroom was open which made her anxious. She couldn't make one sound while waiting for the class to end unless she wanted to alert Salva to her awkwardly hovering outside.

That turned out not to be a concern at all. As she got closer, the noise coming from inside magnified. It was as if a circus combined with a zoo was confined inside that one small room.

She couldn't help but peek in.

Inside, she saw Salva with a Napoleon headdress being chased by a bunch of frolicking eight-year-old around the classroom. They were bombarding him with balls made of foam and rubber with screams of delight.

Despite her initial judgment, it wasn't a spontaneous ambush against the teacher. Several of the little kids had little flags of the United Kingdom, Netherlands and Prussia taped to their clothing. It had to be a historical reenactment of the battle of Waterloo and a somewhat accurate one based on the expression of pure panic on Salva's face after the kids had cornered him.

"He has to surround now!" shouted a familiar voice from the back row. Raquel grinned so hard her cheeks hurt as she saw her own daughter having risen up on top or the desk with the English flag hoisted high above her head.

"That is right, Captain Maitland," called out Salva, waving a white handkerchief in the air. "But what happens to me now?“

"Off to jail!“

The kids surrounded him all over and started marching him toward the back of the classroom where there was a fort-like construction built out of linen painted with big red letters: ST. HELENA. The rest of the class cheered, made noise with various improvised musical instruments and threw shredded paper in the air.

Salva started laughing as the two of the girls escorting him began singing Mamma Mia with thick Spanish accents. It was not quite a right Abba song for the occasion, but their enthusiasm was rewarded by him jamming with the two as they reached the prison island of St.Helen.

Raquel had to press her hand against her mouth in order not to giggle.

It was truly a wonder he didn't have his own kids. Some men had a special kind of energy to them that made everyone around them see how great of a dad they'd make; those were few and far between, but Salva was the clearest case she'd maybe ever seen.

Only after Salva was finally imprisoned properly by the two girls by a glittering hair tie around his wrists, did he finally spot Raquel leaning against the doorframe of the classroom.

She couldn't lie; the way his face brightened the second he recognized her made her chest bloom like a flower in its first bath of sunshine.

Sergio tried to come to her, but some of the kids blocked his way with their ball weapons already hoisted up. He smiled at them sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. Raquel smiled back at him. She found herself thinking she'd probably never liked him more than right now, sitting on the floor with his hands tied together by something pink and sparkly, a lopsided Napoleon hat on his head.

She ventured inside the class, heading straight to Paula who was already running toward her. "Mama, what are you doing here?“

Without saying a word, Raquel crouched down and wrapped her arms around her daughter. She squeezed her against her chest, fighting some tears from spilling. She had barely even realized how badly she'd needed to hold her before now.

"You're crushing me," Paula giggled.

"I just missed you, _mi amor_, " Raquel said, kissing the top of her head. "I'm not embarrassing you, am I?“

She shook her head but then leaned conspiratorially toward her mother. "But Señor Stay-Alert does not like civilians on the battleground. That is why we evacuated the lego buildings earlier."

Raquel grinned. "It's alright. I'll talk to him."

Salva proved to be harder to reach than she'd thought. His little guards were adamant about not letting any outsiders near the linen prison.

"Let her pass," he laughed. "This is... Napoleon's wife, coming to visit her husband in prison. Class, does anyone remember her name?“

"It's Maria Louisa from Austria!“

“Good job, Camila!" he said. And just like that, Raquel was begrudgingly allowed into the linen fort with him.

"My my, quite trouble you have gotten yourself in, cariño, " she_ tsk-tsked,_ playing along. Salva's eyes crinkled when Raquel started secretly to ease his hands our of their restraints and winked at him.

"Napoleon was successfully captured," he announced to the class as soon as he was free, taking Raquel's hands in his. She felt warmth rush into her chest at the affectionate gesture. "Now, you can do whatever you want for the rest of the class while the prisoner talks privately with his wife," he continued.

Two of the boys made faces. "Yuck. They are going to kiss, aren't they?“

Salva pretended not to hear them, opting to draw the linen In front of them swiftly so Raquel would be the only one able to see the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. It was rather endearing.

As soon as they were alone, Salva's expression grew more serious - to a ridiculous contrast with his crooked Napoleon hat. "Is everything alright, Raquel?“

"Why do you think it isn't?“ she asked, taken aback.

"You're here early and you didn't smile with your eyes when I saw you. Not to mention that you hugged your daughter like your life depended on it."

Yielding, Raquel let her shoulders fall. She squeezed his hands, trying to find the right words to say.

"After this class is over, can you take me away?" she asked with a small voice. "I can't go home."

"Of course," he answered.

The fact that it came out immediately and with no other questions asked made her heart burst for him.

* * *

Salva hadn't said a word to her since she'd climbed into his car. He had just kept on driving silently forward, and she couldn't be more grateful.

However, at some point, she would have to open her mouth and talk. It was only the polite thing to do.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the window.

She knew it was selfish, but she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into that silly little linen fort in his classroom and stay there for a few hours more alone with him. It had felt like the only place she'd been able to breathe in all day.

She almost wanted to express this aloud to him, knowing that somehow, he'd understand. It was so silly, they'd known for only a few days and yet...

No. The way she felt about being with him couldn't be put into words.

That was the last thing she remembered thinking of before drifting off.

Later, somewhere in the borderland between sleep and wakefulness, she was able to sense a pair of strong arms wrapping around her. The feeling of weightlessness soon followed, yet she felt completely safe.

* * *

Raquel woke in a dimly-lit room. A blanket had been tucked over her and she had a pillow behind her head. It was a warm and comfortable nest she was reluctant to leave.

She slowly pushed it off, looking drowsily around her. She was lying on a couch in someone's living room.

Normally, she would feel alarmed about finding herself in a strange place, but there was something familiar and non-threatening about the sounds coming from the kitchen. She draped the blanket over her shoulders and went to look.

Salva was in the middle of stuffing what looked to be decades-old magazines into a trash bag. There were already three of them filled to the brim leaning against the wall of the tiny apartment.

He whipped his head around as he heard Raquel behind her. "Oh sorry, just doing a bit of a... Fall clean-up. You woke already?“

Raquel nodded, still staring at the piles of magazines. "So this is your apartment?“

"Yeah, sorry for the mess. I don't really get visitors here." He glanced at the trash bags, rubbing the back of his neck. "Lucky for me, your nap gave me time to clear out most of the junk."

"You carried me from the car," Raquel stated, though the words were pitched like a question.

An endearingly worried crease appeared in his forehead. "I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to continue your sleep somewhere more comfortable. It looked like you needed it. I shouldn't have kept you up all night.

"No, don't apologize. It was nice."

It was the truth. The thought of him being gallant enough to do that made warmth blossom in her chest. Nobody has done that to her since she was a child, and then she'd been far smaller. Though he didn't look like a man who'd have any problems with carrying her even now, she thought, glancing at Salva's arms, then guiltily back again.

He nodded, smiling shyly.

"It seems that we couldn't make it to Hanoi today either, but that doesn't mean I can't still offer you something to eat."

He walked to his fridge with her following in his wake and opened the door.

It was glaringly empty. Salva blinked rapidly as if shocked by the discovery. Raquel couldn't help but smile. It was rather amusing that he couldn't remember the contents of his own fridge.

"Ah. Such is the fridge of a culinary expert," she teased.

He chuckled nervously. "As I said, I don't get many visitors."

Next, he began opening cupboards in his kitchen at random, going through them one by one. It was as if he wasn't quite sure what each of them contained which was curious for a man operating in his own kitchen. Perhaps he was more absent-minded than she'd thought.

"Here we go," he finally said after finding a load of bread in the freezer along with some canned goods and condiments in one of the drawers. "How about I make you a sandwich?“

Raquel grinned. "Only if I can make you one in return."

"Deal."

* * *

Sergio wanted to kill the Serbian who he'd left in charge of arranging him a staged emergency apartment for situations just like these. The previous owner seemed to be a world-class hoarder and a slob, and that had to be exactly what Raquel thought he was now. Terrific. Just terrific.

He's spent the first half an hour rushing to throw out as much junk he could without waking Raquel. It was a miracle she hadn't done that while he'd carried her. She'd felt so small and fragile in his arms that he'd hardly even dared to breathe, resulting in him losing his concentration multiple times and almost bumping her against every possible surface before he'd managed to plop her down on the couch.

At least she'd taken the barrenness of his kitchen with humor, even though his promised five-star meal from yesterday would be a mongrel of a sandwich today.

However, It was nice cooking together, as spartan it was. He loved listening to Raquel hum as she cut bread. Their shoulders bumped against each other every now and then, causing her to smile every time. Later, he'd feel embarrassed about how often he'd done it on purpose.

While they worked, Raquel was recounting a tale of the best case she'd ever undertaken.

"It was fifteen years back when I and Ángel were still green. It was right after a dangerous incident in rural Spain. A drunken local had opened fire against my partner."

"You did mention yesterday that inspector Rubio had gotten shot one time."

"This was the incident, yes. But I didn't mention _where_."

Sergio quirked an eyebrow. Raquel bit her lip, seemingly struggling to hold in a grin. "It was to his... rear side."

"He got shot in his-?"

"Straight through the buttcheek," she said and glanced at Sergio to gauge his reaction. "I can see you you smiling. Stop it. It was serious, I swear. He couldn't sit for a week. All he could do was lie on his belly on the bed with his ass in the air."

Sergio nodded gravely, straining each of his facial muscles in order not to let even one corner of his mouth twitch. Raquel observed him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Luckily the local doctor was able to patch him up. The nearest hospital would have been hundreds of kilometers away. He spent his convalesce essentially in the guest room of the doctor and his missus because our supervisor couldn't be arsed to fetch us back before he was able to be in a vertical position again. No budget for an air ambulance for someone so low on the ladder as us, it seemed. Obviously, I stayed with him in that little village in the middle of nowhere. I swear, there was more chicken than people. I still see them in my dreams."

"I thought this was about your favorite case?" Sergio asked teasingly.

"Just listen. While Ángel was bedridden, I was bored enough to be climbing the walls. But then the villagers came to me with a mysterious case: senor Carrasco's chickens were disappearing one by one. I spent a week crouched down in various smelly henhouses and chasing after suspicious youngsters on a rusty bicycle. In the end, the chicken thief was apprehended. The whole village threw a party in my account and I got to eat so much potato pie I still have the taste of it on my tongue."

Sergio smiled. "That was a noble thing you did. Not everyone would have helped."

"Those chicken were that community's livelihood, and they were already struggling with the big poultry farms all around." She smiled wistfully. "I have never been more proud of police work than back then, and it solidified my decision to continue down on that path. Those villagers are why I'm doing what I do. Everything is for the little guy."

Sergio wondered if she had even a remote idea of how amazing she was.

He wished she could see herself recounting that tale: those happy crinkles forming at the corners of her eyes, the flashes of white teeth as she fought against grinning, the hair she kept pushing back over her shoulder only for it to tumble back when she started gesturing excitedly.

At times, he found himself so enthralled by the words coming out of her mouth to remember to continue working on the sandwich. His knife would hover uselessly in the air as he listened to her with a dumb smile on his face.

She was not like the others. She was so far from the others as she could be. If only all the cops were like her...

A sad notion was creeping into his mind, and he had little luck pushing it away.

_It is going to hurt like a bitch to betray her._

He shouldn't think about it. Excess sentimentality was the first step down the slope that would lead to the undoing of the plan.

"The only downside was having to listen to Ángel moan in the bed for a week and employ his various set of tricks to get my undivided attention," she continued, snorting.

"I'm starting to somewhat understand him," Sergio grinned, starting to cut off the crust of the bread. "If you had stayed behind to keep me and my bullet-riddled ass company, I couldn't have helped falling in love either-“

Raquel whipped her head around, glancing at him. "What are you doing?“

Sergio froze. He scanned his memory for what he'd let out of his mouth. His stomach turned. _That had to be too close to flirting._

God, had he been doing this a lot without even knowing? This is why he needed to listen to Andrés more.

"Just joking," he said quickly and faked a laugh.

_And now he felt like an idiot._

"No, what is this?“ Raquel asked, pointing at Sergio and his halfway cut-off crust.

"Oh, I'm cutting off the crust. You told me you liked it better that way."

"Did I?“

“Yes. Yesterday when you talked about packing lunch for your daughter, you told me you were often jealous of her being allowed to enjoy her sandwich with the crusts cut off. You secretly like it that way the best. "

"I didn't think you'd take it seriously. It's stupid."

Sergio smiled. "What's stupid about that? I'm doing you the best sandwich I possibly can, and this is a crucial detail for the process..."

He stopped talking as he noticed Raquel had lowered her knife and turned to look at him with shiny eyes. Her lip was wobbling. 

Sergio frowned. "Is everything alright-"

He couldn't finish the question before Raquel had already buried her head in his chest with a sob, clutching at his shirt with trembling fingers. Sergio could feel her tears soak into the thin fabric.

He was petrified. He'd never had a woman cry on him before and had no clue what to do. Had he upset her somehow? Should he apologize?

He stood completely still for a while before starting to feel useless. In the end, all he could do was rest his palm on the back of her head and start slowly stroking her soft hair.

At first, he didn't know what he was doing and feared him awkwardly petting her hair was only making it worse. However, he eventually found a rhythm that seemed to soothe Raquel. His feeling of helplessness went away as her sobs subsided. It felt good, being able to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled out against his chest. "I'm- I'm being ab- absolutely ridiculous."

"It's alright. Next time I'll leave the crusts alone." He gave a small laugh.

"No, no you don't get it, you- you are so good, Salva. So good."

And then she was weeping again.

Now he was getting concerned. "Hey, tell me what's wrong," he said, gently taking a hold of Raquel's face so he could look at her.

The second his fingers brushed the side of her face, she winced like he'd hurt her. He frowned, confused.

He tried to brush his thumb over the same spot of oddly-colored skin again, but she quickly turned her head, deflecting his touch. There was an odd, deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes.

Suddenly, a horrible suspicion slithered into his mind. He immediately dismissed it. The thought was too abhorrent to even entertain.

Still, the question tumbled out of his mouth without his control.

"Why are you not home, Raquel?"

The woman fell quiet. The harrowing silence alone was enough to make him sick to his stomach. _No. It can't be. Her husband is an asshole, but he cannot be capable of that. He just cannot._

The next time he spoke, he had to struggle to keep his voice from trembling with anger. "Is it your-"

"It's this robbery," Raquel answered quickly. "My husband is out of town and my daughter went to my mother straight after school. The house is completely empty and the thought of that case following me home to haunt me was too much to bear. I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm even doing here, invading your home and overwhelming you with my own issues-"

"No, no. You're not doing that all," Sergio said, his voice strangled.

He felt ashamed. Here he was, jumping to the worst possible conclusions when it was the collateral damage of his own plan that was wrecking her.

Not knowing what to say or do to possibly apologize, he drew her into a wordless hug.

Hugging women wasn't something he did, so he didn't know what to expect. However, it didn't take even a second for Raquel to sling her arms around his neck and hug him back. Sergio was first startled by the sensation of having her whole, petite body pressed against his until he eventually relaxed and tightened the embrace, nuzzling his face into her hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was able to register the faint scent of strawberries.

"I'm just so tired," she whispered.

In an instant, those few frail words consumed him with an inexplicable need to do everything in his power to take care of the woman in his arms. He'd never felt anything like it before. The urge was so strong that he couldn't even image ignoring it.

"Let's get you back to rest then."

He helped her back to the couch, not quite carrying her again but almost. When he was lowering her to the cushions, Raquel didn't let go of his arm.

"Sit with me for a moment?" she asked.

Sergio couldn't have said no even if he'd wanted to.

He kept his arms around her, letting her rest against his chest. Just a little while longer, and he would tuck her in and let her sleep in peace.

Sitting down with her reminded him of how bone-weary he himself was. It had been over 24 hours since he'd last gotten a wink of sleep. He felt like a barrel of lead sinking down into the cushions. It was easy to understand Raquel's tiredness.

He listened to her breath grow calmer and steadier. He closed his eyes, relishing the peaceful sound.

* * *

The noise of the morning traffic from the street below was what woke him ten hours later.

His first conscious thought was that his neck hurt. The second was that it was hot, way hotter than it should be in the cool linen sheets at the mansion.

Only slowly it dawned on him that the time of the mansion was over. He was somewhere else.

His hazy mind waded through the physical sensations he was feeling until it became apparent that the source of heat currently pressed against him was another, smaller body. A distinctly female one, he noted through the veil of sleep. Not seeing anything wrong with this scenario at first, he closed his eyes again and enjoyed the warmth of her skin and listening to her soft breathing. Only when he tried to recall why that sound was so pleasant to him, he snapped his eyes open.

He'd fallen asleep on the couch, entangled with none other than Raquel Murillo.

He pulled himself free as fast as he could and shot up. Raquel didn't stir, only curled up against the empty space where Sergio's body had just been.

After the initial shock had passed, his chest was filled with affection at the sight. At least she had finally gotten her rest.

Then, he became aware of his _problem_. It reminded of its existence with an insistent throb while he was gazing down at her. He glanced down at himself, then back up again with a silent groan.

He had a situation going on.

He bit back curses all the way to the shower. He could only praise his lucky stars Raquel had still been feeling hadn't felt _him_ pressing against her back. He would have never been able to look her in the eye again.

Familiarizing himself with the stranger's shower (one Axe bodyspray and nothing else, _just terrific_), he twisted the knob into a random direction and was rewarded with a stream of cold water splashing against his head.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to force himself to stay put. This was just he needed with his body still stubbornly longing after the warmth of Raquel's curves sculpted against his. Sergio braced his hand against the wall, letting the water, now bone-clatteringly cold, pour over him, trying not to think of the lingering sensation.

It had been a while since the last time he'd been with a woman. That was probably exactly the problem here.

Well, technically he'd just had a woman spent the night. But nothing had happened.

He knew exactly what his brother would have thought of that. _You didn't even try? _

He let out a little self-derisive snort as he imagined Andrés' expression. What his brother couldn't realize was that even if she wasn't married, the whole endeavor wouldn't be any less impossible. A woman like her with a man like him...

And it was not as if he wanted her in his bed.

Just as he had almost succeeded in cooking himself down, his memories were thrown back to their phone conversation yesterday, and to the way her silky voice sounded on the other end of the line: Profesor, Are you saying that you'd be able to make it longer and better for me than your average man?

He felt a fiery jolt farther down In his body than he would have liked. 

_Do not think about her that way. Do not think about her in any way in the shower._ He violently twisted the knob in the wall again. _Only the professor is allowed to think about her in that way, and just for the sake of the mission. Not Salva, and least of all Sergio._

It took ten minutes more and all of his self-control laser-focused on not thinking about Raquel for him to take care of his problem. He directed the shower stream toward the wall to wash off the evidence. With Raquel in his apartment, he had to be considerate.

He tiptoed into his bedroom to dress. Raquel still didn't stir. 

However, just as he had managed to tug on his trousers and get his button-down halfway on him when he heard a scream.

It didn't take even a second for him to act. He wrenched the door open and stormed back into the room, frantically scanning for threats. But the only thing he could see was Raquel, staring confusedly around her, the blanket gathered in front of her in her tiny fists like a shield. 

"Raquel! Is everything okay?“

She snapped her gaze toward him, her mouth half open as if to say something. But then her lips fell closed, and her eyes rounded. She _stared_.

Sergio was first not sure what, until he realized the state of his clothing. He was only one sleeve into his shirt, and the left side of his torso had to be fully visible.

Suddenly self-conscious, he quickly drew in his arm through the other sleeve and started hurriedly buttoning his shirt up. "Ah, I'm sorry. I thought there was something wrong-" he tried to stammer, fighting with the stubborn buttonholes. The heat of embarrassment was quickly climbing up his neck

"It's alright. I think it was just a nightmare," Raquel said, averting her gaze. "We seemed to fall asleep on the couch."

"I'm sorry, I supposed I was so tired as well that I joined in on that nap of yours. I should have given you the bed, then we would have both had more space. Not that it was ever my intention to sleep together with you, I would have naturally taken the couch..."

He only stopped rambling after noticing she was staring again, now a faint smile on her lips.

"What?“

"Nothing. It's just..." Her eyes flickered down and she started laughing. "Oh now you are just failing miserably. Let me help you."

The next instant, she was up on her feet in front of him. Sergio froze as she reached for the front of his shirt. "You just got to..."

Her voice faded away. Raquel unbuttoned a few buttons and then rebuttoned them, the ghosts of her fingertips dancing on his skin, all the while Sergio licked the suddenly sandpaper-dry insides of his mouth. After the work was done, she flashed him a quick smile.

"There you go. Your buttons were crooked."

Sergio nodded tightly. "Thank you." He hoped his expression didn't betray how shaken he was by the intimate moment. Somehow, it felt even more tender than sleeping with her in his arms.

"I hope you didn't mind. My husband is always in too much of a hurry to button his shirt properly. It drives me crazy so I help him. 

The mention of Vicuña caused a tightness coil inside him. It was something primal but unrecognizable. The closest word he could describe it with was irritation.

But it was not her being married that bothered him. It was the fact that a man so unpleasant as he had someone like Raquel rebuttoning his buttons in the morning and smiling softly at him, the way she had smiled at Sergio.

As he'd told Raquel earlier, her husband was a lucky man. Far luckier than he probably deserved.

"Not at all," he answered, smiling weakly.

"Wait, what time is it?“

She dove for her phone that had fallen somewhere under the blanket on the floor. She switched it on and grimaced once she saw the time. "5:36. Fuck. I should be at work."

_And I have missed yet another check-up_, Sergio thought. This time, he'd have to lie where he'd been. There was no good explanation for what had happened last night.

The thought made him uncomfortable. Keeping secrets from his team hadn't been in his plans. But at least he could still make the next call if he left immediately.

Yet, as he watched Raquel scramble her things together in a nervous frenzy, he found the words leaving his mouth out of their own volition:

"I'll give you a ride."

* * *

"You really are a lifesaver, Salva," Raquel sighed as he drove her to the Royal Mint.

"No problem. Really."

He tried not to glance at the clock. He rolled his shoulders back, trying to relax.

"I meant what I said last night. You really are good." She paused for a moment, her features tightening as if suddenly worried that if she shouldn't have reminded him of her vulnerable moment yesterday. The next moment, she tried to smile. "Let me tell you something that'll make you laugh. My partner is actually compiling information about you. He thinks you, of all people, has something suspicious going on. Can you believe it?“

The words crashed a cannonball down his stomach.

It took a minute or two for him to be able to speak again. "W- why would he think that?“

“Don't take it personally. Sometimes I get a feeling he has a problem with every single man in my life."

_Jesus Christ._

Not only did she have a husband just dick enough to potentially make Sergio's life a living hell if he knew about their friendship, but she also had another jealous man in her close circle. And both of the men were cops with an abundance of police resources at their disposal were they see an opportunity to use them.

_What the fuck was he doing?_

Here he was, giving a ride to a woman who alongside her husband and partner could bust the whole operation open with a single seed of suspicion. And he was missing his set appointment with his team to do it. All for what, a few minutes more with her?

Sergio's fingers around the wheel tightened. He was the biggest goddamn moron on the planet.

He clenched his eyes shut, and drew in a deep breath. The next time he opened them, he did so as the Professor. 

Let this be a wake-up call for him. He had to get out before making a fateful mistake. Deciding to meet with her again would be one of those.

He had to act quickly before his weaker side would change his mind. A moment later, he swerved the car into the nearest paparazzi-vacant roadside near the Royal Mint.

Now it was the time. He would end this quickly and efficiently, with enough coldness that Raquel would not misunderstand or try to argue back.

"Thank you, Salva. And not just for the ride." He could almost feel the soft, grateful smile in her voice. It made him just feel worse.

He swallowed, forcing his core into stone.

Just as he turned to say the words to her, she turned to him at the same time.

What was undoubtedly supposed to be a kiss on the cheek had Sergio not moved his head, landed on another place. For the duration of one heartbeat, her lips were pressed against his.

Sergio's mind went into lockdown.

Raquel withdrew a split-second later, letting out an embarrassed laugh. He knew the socially appropriate response would be to laugh it off too, but for some reason, he couldn't force a single syllable out of his mouth. His tongue was plastered on the floor of his mouth.

He was faintly aware of Raquel thanking him one more time and saying goodbye before rising out of the car. He watched her walk away with his gaze not quite focused. When he registered she was out of sight, he slowly lifted his fingers to his lips in remembrance of the brief, soft contact.

Only ten minutes later, he drove off to report to his team that keeping Raquel as an informant would be a risk worth taking. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men in Raquel's life start to turn their suspicion toward Salva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an explanation about the timeline: since the heist happens two years earlier, Mónica is obviously not pregnant. This affects the plot in the way the she is able to sneak out Arturo's phone from his office because Denver is not there to hold her up and talk about abortion. There might other deviations from the canon like that in the future, but that makes this more fun, doesn't it?
> 
> Thank for all the Spaniards who had helped me with their cultural corrections! It is truly appreciated.
> 
> Also, feel free to comment in any language you want. I love hearing from each one of you!

The shadow of Salva's lips still lingering on her own, Raquel swept into the tent. 

As embarrassing as the little incident in the car had been, seeing his stupefied expression alone was enough to fill her chest with affection and an odd sense of happiness. She was glad she had Salva in her life, someone she felt so comfortable with that a silly blunder like this would only make her smile.

Prieto said something sneering after spotting her, something about hoping that she had slept to her fill, but she couldn't care less. He was actually right. She'd never felt more energized and ready to grapple this case. She felt she would succeed in any endeavor she set her mind on today.

She flashed a smile at Ángel. He was so surprised the cup he was lifting to his lips missed a little and drops of coffee spilled to his shirt.

She arrived at her station where people were already busy at work. She dragged her chair underneath her. "So what has the CCTV search yielded?"

“We are still reviewing the footage. Nothing useful this far," replied the technician.

That didn't deter her good mood. Any moment now, they'd find something useful about Oliveira and Cortes and that would be key to blowing this case wide open. 

"Keep looking. We'll get those bastards out of there."

The tired technician reciprocated her grin. She heard approaching footsteps behind her and swung herself around. "Suarez, how is our process on the profiling front?

Raquel's smile vanished like a cloud of smoke. The man looming over wasn't Suarez.

"Somebody's in a good mood today," said Alberto with a lopsided smirk. He was dressed in casual clothes, but he had his uniform jacket leisurely draped over his shoulder as if only waiting for action.

She wanted to ask what the hell he was doing here, but nothing came out of her throat except for a strangled gasp. 

"Don't look so shocked. Can't a husband come greet his wife at work?" he asked, his voice wry in the way she used to love. Now it just made nausea swell inside her.

He stooped down to drop a kiss on her lips, and for a brief nonsensical second, Raquel feared he could sense Salva on her. But nothing happened. Alberto merely replaced Salva's feel with his own, and her heart sank.

She saw Prieto roll his eyes. He probably thought this was yet another reason why women were a bad fit for the force; so needy that their husbands just had to materialize by their side at regular intervals to give them their daily dose of affection.

Alberto brought his mouth to her ear. "I missed you last night, _patito_." he whispered, making Raquel shiver. And not in the good way.

"Let's have this conversation in a more private space," she harshly whispered back.

Trying to keep her expression neutral for the sake of Ángel and other curious colleagues, she rose and began to lead Alberto out of the tent. 

As soon as they were outside, his face twisted into an ugly, accusative frown. He grabbed her by the shoulders in order to turn her to face him. Raquel dug her heels into the ground, refusing to budge. Today, she wouldn't let him drag her around like a ragdoll.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was?" he immediately started. "Two nights in a row I have stayed up now, sick with worry!"

Raquel inwardly scoffed at his routine. This is how it always started. "I left your messages on read. You know very well I was alright."

He clenched his jaw. "Why didn't you come straight home from work like I asked? And where were you for that matter? Were with that same _friend_?"

"Did you seriously expect to come home after you beat me up?"

There it was. The words were out in the open now, but surprisingly, the sky didn't crash on her back and the world didn't end. She didn't want to curl up and cry because the words had now somehow made it all inescapably real. Instead, she just felt furious.

"Jesus, keep your voice down," Alberto hissed, quickly glancing around him. He looked pale, but she supposed it was no wonder. She'd never really said it aloud, and now that she had, he looked shaken. She actually liked the look of shame on his face. It suited him.

"Why? It is the truth."

"I didn't _beat_ you up. I only…" Alberto halted, swallowing. It seemed he couldn't admit what he did aloud. "Have you told anyone?"

"No. Why, do you want me to keep my mouth shut?"

Alberto was taken aback by her angry words. It was a rare sight, and she found herself thinking that she should stand up to him more often.

"Raquel, you saw how sorry I was. You know I would never hurt you again."

_That's what you said the last time,_ she thought.

"Why should I believe you?"

"I'm not that kind of a man, I swear. You have to believe me."

The man got down on his knees on the grass. Some police offers in the distance turned to look at them, making Raquel's face burn with embarrassment.

"Jesus, Alberto, what are you-"

"I can't lose you, Raquel. I love you more than life itself."

Alberto's eyes had misted over. He looked about to burst into tears at any moment. It made her feel uncomfortable and guilty as if she was the one being cruel to him. She turned her eyes away, not quite able to look at the miserable sight.

She buried her face in her hands for a brief moment of peace and drew in a deep breath. _Why was she put in these situations? Why did it have to be just her husband on his knees on the grass, begging for forgiveness? _

_Why was making these decisions over and over again her life?_

She finally let out a weary sigh and lifted her eyes. "I'm not going to leave you. But you have to understand that this is the last time I'm going to forgive you."

A glimmer of hope lit in Alberto's eyes. Raquel quickly continued before he got too excited. "But I'm only going home on one condition."

"Anything."

"I won't answer a single one of your questions. I won't tell you where I was or who I was with. And you're just going to have to bear it."

Alberto frowned again. "But how will I know you weren't-"

"You won't. If you truly love me as much as you claim you do, you shouldn't doubt me," she said sharply, staring him in the eye. "I have _always_ been faithful to you," she added. 

He still looked disgruntled, his face slightly flushed as if he was brimming with righteous fury at not being able to have his questions answered. But he also knew better than to explode at her again. One wrong move, and she would be out.

"You're right," he finally said. He moved to take Raquel in his arms and squeezed her tightly against him. "I will not let you down,_ patito_."

She stayed immobile in his embrace. It somehow felt distasteful to hug him back, even though she should show him that she'd forgiven him. Which she had, she supposed.

Finally, she loosely wrapped one arm around him, trying to ignore the lump in her throat.

She really wished she made the right decision.

* * *

  
Ángel sat at his desk, unable to focus. 

All he could think about was Vicuña and his rude behavior. He'd showed up unannounced at the current hotspot of police investigation in all of Spain and taken Raquel away from her urgent work. No wonder she'd looked so upset. 

None of the other men in the force really understood why Ángel disliked Vicuña so much, but it was the little things like this that revealed his true character - he was all around an inconsiderate and self-centered husband.

Hopefully, Raquel would soon realize how much better she deserved. 

The conversation between the couple seemed to have ended because Vicuña had sauntered back into the tent. Ángel saw him halt to observe his surroundings. None of the people working paid any particular attention to him, but Vicuña himself let his eyes linger on each male person in the tent. He spared even Ángel a distrustful glance which made him shift uncomfortably in his chair. 

After giving everyone a good look, he lifted something from his pocket. "Have any of the gentlemen here lost their watch?“ he said, hoisting up the old-looking object.

To Ángel's shock, he recognized it. This was the watch Raquel's friend Salva had been wearing the night they went out. But he couldn't understand how it had ended in Vicuña's possession.

The explanation that first sprung to his mind froze his insides. He swallowed with some difficulty._ Could it be that Raquel and Salva…_

Alberto dangled the watch in the air in an almost menacing manner, his eyes searching for something - a pale face or an evaded gaze as an admission of guilt, perhaps. 

Ángel didn't say anything. Instead, he tucked this information in a safe nook in his brain. There was no reason to rile up Vicuña prematurely.

Raquel followed her husband back inside the tent, and in a split-second, Alberto had shoved the watch into his pocket. He smiled at her, letting the tension melt off his body as if his moment of interrogation had never even happened. Ángel turned his gaze as Alberto gave her a kiss. The next moment, he heard him leave the tent. 

Raquel sat back beside him, but there wasn't a trace left from her morning cheerfulness. She stared vacantly in front of her, as if not quite remembering what she was supposed to do. This lasted for a moment before her gaze finally hardened. Then she was back barking orders.

However, the weariness in her eyes never left her.

He hated seeing her like this and hated Vicuña for coming here to exhaust her. She'd looked so beautiful when he'd smiled at Ángel in the morning, but now there was no hope of that happening again.

Ángel was considering pulling her aside and giving her a comforting hug when her phone beeped. He saw her dig it up and look at the screen. Against all odds, she smiled.

His stomach turned as he stared at her type something into her phone and smile some more. _Who was she talking to? How come they were able to get her to look like that at some stupid device?_

Later, when Raquel went out to smoke Ángel took action. Discreetly, he moved his chair next to Raquel's and shoved his hand inside the purse that was slung over the back. It didn't take long for her to find her phone and quickly type in her passcode. He had seen her type it so many times he knew it by heart now.

He glanced around him, searching for any prying eyes before resuming his work. He went into her messages.

_good luck with work_, Salva had texted her.

Was this the banality worth smiling about? _Good luck_. As if that deadbeat knew anything about what they were going through. He didn't have the faintest clue why Raquel kept humoring him. 

_thank you. and sorry about the silly thing in the car_, Raquel had replied.

_don't worry about it._

There were a few minutes of silence, and then Salva had sent her another message.

_happens all the time to me_

_hah, does it now?_

_what can I say, ladies love me_

_I see, there's no need for more cheek kisses from me then_

_:(_

_but maybe one more to make up for the one we messed up_

_:)_

Ángel felt his stomach plummet. Not only had Salva gotten some sort of a kiss from her, but he was also now outrageously trying to flirt with her. And Raquel didn't seem to mind.

A chill passed through him as he remembered the watch and what it could mean that Alberto had found it, probably somewhere in his house._ No, Raquel is better than that. _

However, he couldn't shake the uncomfortable suspicion. It was gnawing at his insides like acid. 

He had to do _something_.

Checking once more that Raquel wasn't behind him, Ángel began to type on her phone. 

* * *

"How in the world is it possible that you _still_ haven't found that damn phone?“ Sergio hissed into the receiver. 

"We have checked every hostage twice over," answered Andrés calmly. "There is still ground to cover, but unfortunately my teammates refuse to expand their search… _further_."

Denver jumped into the frame and started frantically pointing at the camera. "I'm not sticking my hand into anyone's ass no matter what Berlin says. That is a hard fucking line."

"Why do we even need to find that damn phone?" Nairobi said tersely from the table. "They only saw Rio's face. The rest of us are still safe."

Sergio saw Rio shot her a glare in the grainy screen. He rubbed his face, groaning. 

"Perhaps that would be the case if only you had followed my rules. But no. The police have found Rio's visit to the Mint from the security footage, and along with him they discovered Tokyo's identity because these two didn't inspect the Mint separately despite _everything_ I taught them. Instead, they stayed together the whole time, holding hands and locking lips. And now both of their faces are plastered on every news program in the country."

All of the eyes turned to Tokyo and Rio. The boy couldn't look up from his feet, but Tokyo was matching everyone's stare with a glare of her own.

"Tokyo and Rio, what do you have to say for yourself?“ Sergio asked. "What did tell I _specifically_ tell you about personal relationships?

"Says the man currently sticking it into the head inspector," Tokyo spat out.

Sergio's next words died on his tongue.

The feed from the office was silent as well. People were undecided about what to say or where to look. They resembled a family gathering where a drunken uncle had blurted out something inappropriate and nobody knew how to salvage the situation. Tokyo was staring up at the camera with a hint of regret in her gaze, Moscow was pretending to be very interested in the files Román had had on his desk, Rio was looking around him as if searching for a crack to escape through, Nairobi's jaw had dropped, Helsinki and Oslo were exchanging silent looks while Denver just looked confused.

Only Andrés looked unshaken.

"Berlin, pick up the phone," Sergio ordered calmly.

His brother did just so, his gaze unwaveringly directed at the camera.

"What did you tell them?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even with all of his might.

“Only what you divulged to me, Professor."

"Which is?“

“That you have been spending quality time with the inspector. Moonlit walks, sleeping in each other's arms and other such useful pursuits."

Now Nairobi hid her mouth with her hand, holding in a smile. Others in the room started to relax too, sharing amused looks. Feeling his authority crumble second by second, Sergio turned his head from the monitor.

"Why did you deem that necessary?" he rasped out, holding the receiver tightly to his ear.

"You advised me to keep everyone posted on the developments in the outside world."

"Yes, Professor, we want to hear all about them! " hollered Nairobi. "Second or third base?"

Sergio turned off the audio feed.

"I'm sure it must be delightful to speculate about the methods of my work in your spare time, but I'd kindly ask you to direct the attention of the team on more productive things," Sergio snapped to his brother.

"I know how you must _detest_ to admit it to have been distracted by womanly wiles, Professor, but that is hardly a reason to bite my head off. I'm only doing my job here," Andrés said, his voice wry. 

Before Sergio could retort anything back, his phone sounded. He had gotten a new message.

_Lunch at Hanoi in an hour?_ Raquel had sent him.

Sergio smiled.

_See you there,_ he wrote back.

"Was that her?" Andrés asked after having quietly listened on the line. Sergio could hear the mirth in his voice.

"Find the phone," he grunted and hung up. 

* * *

In an hour, he had arrived at Hanoi. 

He sat down at one of the booths and started leafing through the menu, trying not to think about what his brother had said.

_Distracted._ The word still lingered on his mind. It was frankly insulting for Andrés to have called him that. Sergio was aware of the risks his friendship with Raquel entailed, but he was perfectly in control of every second he spent with her. It was frustrating Andrés refused to see that.

He heard footsteps approaching his booth and began to smile. That had to be Raquel. "I thought we'd never get to Hanoi, but here we are now finally," he said aloud.

Sergio turned his head, but instead of seeing Raquel's small frame by his side, a big bearlike figure cast a shadow over him.

Ángel Rubio.

Sergio stared at him for a while, blinking. Ángel looked back at him with quiet seething. Sergio supposed the man was still somewhat bitter after what had happened the last time they saw which didn't make this encounter any less awkward.

"I'm sorry, can I help you?" he finally managed to ask.

"Yes, you can," Ángel said, sitting in the booth in front of him. Sergio knotted his brow.

"Uh, I'm actually waiting for someone-"

"Raquel. I know. She isn't coming."

Sergio must have looked confused because Ángel continued, sighing as if explaining himself was an unnecessary hassle. "I was the one who sent you that message. You wouldn't have shown up if I had contacted you myself."

"There might be a reason for it," Sergio replied tersely. 

Ángel leaned forward, entwining his fingers in front of him. "I'm aware that me meeting up with you this way may come off as odd and unsettling-"

"Not to mention a breach of privacy. How did you get a hold of Raquel's phone?" Sergio replied, glaring at him.

Ángel glared right back. "You do not like me. The feeling is mutual. But believe it or not, I'm here today to do you a favor."

Sergio couldn't help but cast a quick glance over his shoulder for a potential escape route. Being stuck in a conversation with Raquel's jealous coworker was amongst the top three worst uses of his time at the moment; the others being detention by police and a coma.

Ángel didn't seem to notice, opting to only drone on. "You're the owner of that red Skoda, aren't you? A colleague saw you give Raquel a ride in the morning."

"I did. What about it?"

"It was 6 in the morning."

"Yes, it was probably around that time," Sergio answered carefully, not sure where he was getting at. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

"She is married," Ángel spat out. "Do you have no shame?"

Sergio's mind ran blank for a moment until it finally hit him. "You think I slept with her?" 

He smiled self-deprecatingly like in the shower in the morning. What a ludicrous idea.

But the smile only seemed to frustrate Ángel more. "Did you or did you not?"

"What does it matter to you? Raquel is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions."

"Don't try to shift the blame off your own shoulders. You're the one slimy enough to seduce a married woman."

Sergio's jaw tightened. "I didn't sleep with her. Well… not in the sense you are thinking of."

Ángel grimaced as if in pain. "Jesus, spare me the details."

"No, I meant that-"

"Look, Salva. Raquel's husband came to the tent today, asking if any of the men had lost their watches. The one he was holding was yours."

Sergio's blood froze. 

He tried not to let his expression show the terror inside, opting to fiddle with the napkin in front of him instead. This was just what he'd been afraid of. Raquel's husband at his back was the last thing he needed. _That damn watch. Why had he decided to give it away again?_

"Did you tell him it was mine?“ he asked as casually as he could.

“No, I didn't. And don't worry, I'm going to keep my mouth shut about your little affair."

"There is no _affair_," Sergio said curtly. "She simply slept on my couch while her husband was on a trip. Nothing happened."

Ángel cocked his eyebrow. "Alberto wasn't away. He was there in the early morning and he was at work yesterday. "

"No, she said…" he halted, not knowing what to say. If Vicuña truly had been in Madrid, Ángel had no reason to claim otherwise. An uncomfortable tightness appeared in Sergio's chest.

"Next time, at least make an attempt to get your story straight," Ángel scoffed, taking off his glasses. He started cleaning them with a cloth from his pocket."Anyway, here is my problem with this all…."

But Sergio couldn't hear a word Ángel was saying.

_She lied to me._ It was the only thought in his head. It tumbled around, growing bigger and bigger until it had consumed every nook of his brain with its twisting, dark branches. 

_But why would she do that? Why would she lie about not being able to go to an empty home?_

_What was she hiding?_

Ángel's voice finally pierced his consciousness: "So I'm not going to tell him, but you'll have to do something for me too. If you're as sensible guy as I think you are, you'll say yes - I need you to stop seeing Raquel."

"For the last time, I'm not seeing her", he answered wearily, and then his brain caught up. "Wait, was that a threat?"

Ángel was cleaning his glasses with almost violent swipes. "All I am saying is that-"

"If I don't drop Raquel like a hot potato, you are going to tell her husband. Hell, you actually are threatening me," Sergio said in awe, not knowing whether to laugh or get angry.

Ángel's expression tightened. "I don't know if you have noticed, but Alberto is a pretty big guy. And he has a temper. Even if I don't say a word, he's bound to find out and then things might get bad for you."

Sergio's eyes almost rolled to the back of his head. He wasn't buying Ángel's scare tactics one bit.

"Well, he should have no problem with me since there is absolutely nothing between me and Raquel, as I have told you _multiple_ times." He rose. "Now if you'd excuse me, I have better things to do-"

"But you would like there to be."

Sergio froze. "What?"

"You would like there to be something between you and Raquel, don't you?"

The best course of action would have been to leave and give Ángel a good look at his back as his answer. For some reason though, Sergio found himself rooted in his spot.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play stupid. You know exactly what I am talking about. I see the way you look at her."

He really should leave right now and not indulge this moron. Yet he didn't. 

"Now you're just making things up."

"Admit it. If she wasn't married you'd want you to be with her."

"We're just friends, and what you're doing is what we call_ projecting._ That is what _you_ want, isn't it?"

Ángel gave an incredulous snort. "Perhaps. I have the integrity not to lie about it. Unlike you."

Sergio's face was starting to heat up. "I am not- she is married!"

"And yet, you want her. Just be a man and say it."

"I'm not saying anything."

"You want to be with her! Admit it!"

People were starting to stare at them now, agitating Sergio even further.

"Just drop it!" he hissed.

"It's a simple question. If she wasn't married, would you want to be with her or not?“ Ángel roared back.

"Of course I would!“

A deafening silence filled the room. Ángel stared at him like a burglar he'd just caught red-handed while Sergio stood, petrified, his last word echoing in his head. _What the hell had just happened?_

Ángel slammed his glasses down. “I knew it. I knew you were just a fucker trying to get into her pants."

"That is precisely not what I said," answered Sergio weakly. His mind was still foggy, and it was like scouring through a jungle with a machete trying to make sense of his muddled thoughts. _Had he meant what he'd said? Was Raquel someone he wanted to see himself with?_

"Don't pretend it wouldn't be a part of what you are imagining," Ángel muttered.

_No_, Sergio decided. Rubio was just trying to screw with his head. He must be a better cop than he'd thought he'd be for being able to do that - making him imagine things.

"You're making this seem bigger than it is. There's not a man alive who wouldn't say yes to that question."

"That is exactly what someone secretly lusting after her would say. And I don't want anyone like that near her."

It took all of Sergio's willpower not to spit out the first response that came to his mind. _Then please do her a favor and remove yourself from her life._

As if having read his thoughts, Ángel continued: "You might be surprised to hear this, but we might share a somewhat similar viewpoint when it comes to her. Although, my feelings for her come from a pure place."

God. There was not a world where Sergio wanted to have something in common with Ángel. This was the most uncomfortable conversation he'd ever been a part of, and he had been in a dinner party where his brother's ex-wife, current wife and a future wife had all been accidentally invited.

It was time to excuse himself.

But Ángel managed to clamber to his feet before him. "I have to get back to work. Do think about my request. It serves your best interest."

He tugged on his jacket and walked out. Sergio was left staring after him, sitting alone at the booth. He was sizzling with anger. 

He was nothing like Ángel. He was not some miserable soul vying for the attention of a married woman. Besides, he was here on a mission that had nothing to do with winning Raquel's affections whether she was available or not. The fact that she was married hardly even passed through his mind. As if he didn't have more important things to think about. Hell, it offended him to his core that Ángel even considered him competition.

A tiny voice inside him piped up. _If that were the case, you'd be winning._

Sergio stifled it quickly. Lord, he really needed to stop skimping on sleep.

He was just about to leave himself when he looked down and realized Ángel had left his glasses on the table. He stared at them with wide eyes.

He couldn't believe it. The one item he hadn't even dared to dream of getting his hands on.

This was either sheer dumb luck or the man had just willingly become an accomplice to the biggest robbery in history. He picked them up carefully, fighting a grin from consuming his face. Perhaps there had been one benefit in having this conversation with him, after all. He slipped the glasses casually into his pocket and rose from the table.

He completed the procedure in the bathroom where no one could see him. Luckily, he had taught the attachment of a listening chip so many times he could do it with his eyes closed - or here, in the dim light stooped over a toilet seat. He used the tools he always carried in his teacher's briefcase and the job was done in 10 minutes.

As soon as the glasses were back together again, he hurried out of the cafe. Hopefully, he'd still be able to catch up with Ángel before he disappeared inside the police tent.

As luck would have it, he almost collided with the man the second he was out of the door. Ángel had returned, looking grumpier than ever.

Salva held the glasses aloft, dazed. "Oh, you forgot your-"

The man simply snatched them from his hand, glaring at him.

"You're welcome," Sergio answered. A treacherous smile was tugging at his lips again so he turned before Ángel would see it and began to walk briskly away.

He didn't care about Ángel's eyes boring into his back. It was a struggle not to whistle.

* * *

He could hardly wait to tell his team the news. Rest of the way to the hangar he half-jogged, attracting some glances from passers-by.

_Distracted by womanly wiles, ha!_

Being friends with Raquel had reaped its first victory, and there would be many to come. 

He immediately swept over to his monitoring station as soon as he was inside. He already had the phone in hand as all the screens slowly woke at his command.

But no one answered.

Troubled, Sergio lowered the receiver again and began studying the security footage. His brother wasn't inside the office as he should be. He checked all the feeds, looking for him, but all he could find were Nairobi busy at work, Tokyo and Rio arguing while feeding the hostages, Moscow taking a nap and Helsinki and Oslo observing the shovelwork in the basement.

There was no sign of Berlin, nor Denver for that matter. And one of the feeds were dark.

At that moment the phone rang. But it was his phone, not the landline.

_ Raquel._

"Salva," she greeted with a broken voice the second he picked up.

"Raquel, what is the matter?" Sergio asked hoarsely, affected by the distress in her voice.

"I- I think an innocent woman was hurt because of me tonight."

As she talked, he slowly discovered what had happened while he had been gone. Gaztambide had managed to smuggle out a phone from Arturo Roman's office and from the man's persuasion had called the police in an empty bathroom. With an anguished voice, Raquel accused herself of keeping her on the line for too long to find out more about the operation inside the Mint. They had found out that the robbers were digging an escape route in the basement and that they had masks they could change come the need for it. But the information had come at a huge cost. The call had ended when someone had suddenly barged into the bathroom. Raquel didn't know what had happened to the hostage.

This was almost certainly why one of the feeds had been dark and no one had been picked up. Sergio was disappointed at his brother from hiding what had happened from him, but anger was subsided by the pain he felt through Raquel. Hearing her anguished voice stung so much that he couldn't even bring himself to consider how Gaztambide calling the police meant for his operation.

"I'm sure she's okay," he said quietly, his heart aching. "You did nothing wrong."

_I did._

If he had been present to oversee the security feeds, Monica would never have been able to sneak out a phone. It was hard not to feel like he'd failed her.

"I wish I could believe that. We haven't heard back from the Mint and I fear the worst."

"You have no cause for fear, I promise," Sergio said, meaning it. He trusted his brother. He would follow Sergio's orders and not punish her. "Deep down, these people are good. They wouldn't hurt an innocent woman."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes. And even if someone did hurt her, that person will be punished. Those robbers must keep some sort of order there. Resorting to violence will only weaken their chances of getting out."

"Maybe." Raquel sighed. She sounded so weary it pained him.

The same guilt from yesterday resurfaced. He was the one bringing her all this pain. What right did he even have her speak to him like a trusted friend?

_If she ever found out…_

_No, it killed him to think of that. He couldn't do it right now._

"I think you should get some rest. They cannot possibly keep you at work after that," Sergio said, trying to find a way to end the conversation. He felt like he didn't deserve to hear her voice. Constantly lying to her was too heavy of a burden tonight.

"I'm already on my way. They sent a car to take me home."

"Good. Is your husband home? So you don't have to be alone?" he asked, his voice even. Now wasn't the time to call her out on that lie.

"Yes, actually he is but…" she was quiet for a long moment as if struggling to find the words to say. "Could you stay on the line a little longer?"

Sergio tensed.

He knew the only logical answer now would be no. He had already wasted enough time because of her and there was no heist-related justification in the world he could think of now for keeping on talking to her.

But then he heard her little _please_, and his mouth moved its own accord. The word _yes_ slipped from his lips so naturally it felt like he'd never truly had a choice in the matter.

It was _her_, after all.

* * *

In the two hours they had spent talking, Sergio had ended up with his feet up against the wall, the phone snug against his ear. He was smiling.

"Next question; what games did you play as a kid?"

There was a tiny snort-like sound from the other end. "What?"

"I find that your childhood tells a lot about your personality later in life. It is a perfectly valid question."

"Well Mr. Armchair Psychologist, what can you deduce from me playing kick the can?“

"You are loyal. You cannot bear to see your friends in unjust captivity, so you do everything in your power to set them free."

"Well of course." He could hear the smile in her voice. "What about paper dolls?“

"You are in touch with your feminity."

"_Sure_. Skipping rope?“

“Uh, you are quick at your feet?“

"You are so bad at this," she said, giggling. The sweet sound made his heart soar. Even now he was able to make her laugh.

"Let me give you a hard one. Cops and robbers?“ she said next.

“Now that is extremely easy-"

"It's not what you think. I always wanted to be the robber."

Sergio's brow leaped up. "Well, that is something worth analyzing."

"Not really. I just loved running. And the fact that no matter how the others tried, they wouldn't catch me. It was the best feeling in the world."

"No, this one is not hard either. You want to be free," Sergio answered softly.

Raquel was quiet for a moment. "Don't we all?"

There was something wistful in her voice, something that gave Sergio a pause. But he didn't have the time to explore the topic further before Raquel had leaped into the next.

"I'm quite offended by how surprised you sounded when I told you I was always the robber," she chuckled.

He smiled. "It just isn't what I expected. Is it often feel attraction to the other side of the law, Raquel?“

"Oh, I have had my fair share of trouble over the years."

"A fair pile of parking tickets perhaps?" he joked.

"Actually, one of my first boyfriends was a biker. I ran away from home to ride with him across Spain. Hardly any of what I did during that year and a half was legal. Almost got arrested once but his hog was faster than the police's."

"Oh," was the only thing Sergio managed. The picture he had now in his head was astonishing. Raquel on top of a motorcycle with her hair caught up in the wind, riding down the same roads she now patrolled in a police car.

"Now I have rendered you speechless," she laughed a little. Then she lowered her voice, more serious this time. "It actually didn't end too well. He had problems and didn't… always treat me very well. But he did end up giving me one of my dearest memories."

"What was that?" he asked, delighted to hear another of her stories.

"It was a cold night and we were stranded somewhere in Southern Spain after his bike had broken down. We were walking along the motorway, hoping to hitch a ride from anyone, really. I had no jacket and I was shivering. I had never wished to be home more in my life. I was so unhappy it felt like my soul was bleeding out of me. But that was nothing new. I had felt trapped for as long as I could remember.

But on that night, I felt fluttering on my back.

I looked over my shoulder and saw that a little moth had landed on me. I let it waddle on my skin, not really minding it. I felt its frantically flapping wings. It was almost as if it was trying to lift me off in the air. Every once in a while it tried again, looking almost confused when it didn't succeed. It's silly, but that little insect was the first thing that made me smile in months."

My boyfriend soon noticed it and flicked it with his fingers.

But the moth didn't die, not from the first flick or the fifth. Finally, it fell on the ground. Despite my protests, my boyfriend stomped his boot over it like he had no choice but to kill it. But the moth still hadn't perished. After he had kept on walking, it fluttered its wings and flew off in the opposite direction.   
And I followed suit. That was the night I left my boyfriend.

"That must have been hard. You were all alone there," Sergio said quietly, in awe at her strength.

"In a way, I wasn't. If that silly moth managed to still fly off after my boyfriend had done everything to crush it, why couldn't I?" 

Her voice broke a little off towards the end, causing Sergio to frown. It seemed that her boyfriend had treated her even worse than he'd feared. His throat constricted out of anger for her sake.

"God, this took a dark turn. I'm sorry," she said, sounding embarrassed.

"There's no need to apologize," Sergio said softly. 

"I don't know why I told you all that. I haven't really told it to anyone, not even my husband despite my tattoo."

Sergio choked out his next words. "Your- your tattoo?"

"Oh yeah, I got one on the place where the moth landed. It's nothing big, but it's at least some proof of my wilder side," she chuckled weakly. "I bet you didn't think that a government official like me would have a tattoo to go along with the nose stud."

"No, I really didn't," Sergio said truthfully. All these new revelations about Raquel were making him a little dizzy.

"Now that I have told you the story, I might as well let you see it."

He heard the sound of a zipper being opened and clothing rustling. The realization petrified him. Raquel was taking her shirt off right at this very moment.

"No, you really don't have to," he said, his throat as dry as a desert.

"I'm going to have to hang up now to take the picture. Hold on, okay?“

And just like that, the call had ended. Sergio was left alone with his thoughts, and they were starting to stray from the zone of strict propriety he had reserved for everything related to Raquel. 

The phone felt like a hot coal in his hand, and he ended up dropping it on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling. _This is fine._

Truly, it was ridiculous for him to sweat over something this inconsequential. It was not as if he'd hadn't seen a bit of bare skin before. And Raquel's skin shouldn't be even thought of as _skin_. For the sake of his operation and their friendship, it was vital for him to find Raquel's body as unerotic as a bag of potatoes.

Finally, his phone beeped, making a new message. He made a graceless dive for it. 

Raquel had sent him a photo. He clumsily tapped it open and then froze, _staring_.

She had swept her hair over her shoulder to reveal a patch of skin just below her neck. There it was, a picture of a little moth fluttering between her shoulder blades. Raquel had turned her face toward the camera, smiling cheekily as if to say _Here you go._

Sergio smiled so hard he thought his face would break. He didn't dare to answer anything immediately because he would undoubtedly say one of the embarrassing things coursing through his mind right now. Instead, he kept opening the picture again and again as if he forgot what her smile looked like every time he closed it. She looked so happy even after recounting something that difficult. Was that his doing?

He rolled on his back on the bed, holding the phone above him. He zoomed into her tattoo. She truly hadn't been kidding. His chest filled with warmth. There it was in all of its glory and now Sergio knew about its existence amongst the very few who had the privilege. And even less knew the story behind it. 

Even Vicuña didn't know. A dangerous shiver ran through him at the thought. He tried to discard it, but the harder he tried, the more insistently bored into his subconscious, making his blood grow warmer.

Swiftly, as if something had overtaken him, he texted her his answer.

_beautiful_

Raquel answered almost immediately. 

_the tattoo?_

He smiled as he typed.

_everything about you_

He watched as the three dots appeared to signify that Raquel was typing her answer. However, soon the dots vanished and did not return. Sergio frowned. _Had he gone too far?_

After a few minutes Sergio spent cursing himself, Raquel finally replied. 

_my partner is calling me. mind if I take it? might be work._

Sergio frowned, wondering what Ángel had to say at this time of night.

_no need to even ask me. that is obviously more important._

_I'm going to call you later, okay?_

_okay_

As soon as he saw Raquel go offline, he was consumed by a great and uncomfortable temptation. He had Ángel tapped. He might as well listen to their conversation.

He felt a sting of guilt in his chest but berated himself for it a second later. He was already using Raquel in a way that was far from ethical. It was ridiculous to feel the need to get on the high horse now, especially since he absolutely needed to have access to any information about the case which Ángel would hopefully provide. 

He turned on the audio feed in his earpiece, settled in and began to listen.

"I hope this isn't a bad time," Ángel greeted Raquel. His words were slightly slurred.

Jesus. Was he drunk dialing her?

Raquel sighed. It sounded like this was not the first time this had happened. "What is it now?“

"I need to tell you something," he said, sounding even tipsier.

Even a deeper sigh from Raquel followed. "Can't this wait until the morning? It's late. Just.. go home and sleep it off."

"I'm not drunk if that's what you're accusing me of, I have barely had anything to drink. I'm just calling you as your concerned friend. It's about Salva."

Sergio tensed. Whatever Ángel had to say about him couldn't possibly be good.

"Ángel, just because I have other friends doesn't mean that-"

"No, he's no friend of yours. He said he'd want to be with you if you weren't married."

_That is not true_, Sergio thought bitterly. Although, the man had technically made him blurt out something along those lines.

"Sure," Raquel said, sounding like her patience was wearing very thin. 

"No, I actually met up with him to talk, man to man. He admitted that he wanted you but practically told me to hop along because it was none of my damn business."

"Did he actually say that?"

"What, don't you believe me?"

She sounded hesitant. "Ángel, I do believe that you saw him, but don't you think you're exaggerating a little? Salva doesn't think of me like that."

"No, I heard him say it with my own two ears. 'Of course', he told me when I asked whether he wanted you. And I'm not lying. When have I ever lied to you?"

There was a long silence, long enough to make Sergio's blood curdle._ Is she actually going to believe him?_

"You don't tend to do that," she finally admitted.

"I'm glad you know that." Sergio heard Ángel sigh and continue: "You have to realize whatever it is between you two is heading into a dangerous direction. You're married woman keeping around a guy who is obviously besotted with you." 

He heard Raquel swallow. Then came the faintest of voices. "You are probably right. "

It was an agonizing feeling; hearing someone come to a conclusion about you without having any say in the matter. Sergio wanted to protest, but he had no voice they could hear.

"Just looking out for you Raquel. You know much I-

"Look, Ángel," answered Raquel, terse this time. "I'm having dinner with my husband so I have to go. I'd appreciate it if you didn't try calling me anymore tonight."

Before he could answer, Raquel had already hung up, leaving Ángel and Sergio listen to the abrasive beeping sound of a disconnect call. Ángel sighed and soon Sergio heard him pour more liquor into his glass.

Sergio had never wanted more to find a bottle for himself as well. Hell, he really was becoming Ángel. 

He wrenched off the earpiece, unable to listen to one second more. The damn device had given nothing but grief this far. 

The noise was replaced by complete and utter silence flooding his ears.

He didn't remember the hangar being this void of sounds before. To distract himself from the growing hollow feeling inside him, he grabbed his phone. He stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before finally giving up. She wasn't going to call. Of course, she wouldn't, if she had taken at least a fraction of what Ángel had said to her heart.

Besides, she was having dinner with her husband. 

He didn't know why the thought turned his stomach so much. 

The hangar suddenly seemed too big and barren. The more he stared at walls around him, the more they seemed to be crashing down on him and sucking him into a place even emptier. 

He had lived alone for his entire adult life. Why were the silence and emptiness bothering him now? In a few short days, he was about to be millions of euros richer and finally content with the knowledge that his father's memory had been honored and his death avenged; it was not as if anything was missing. 

Yet, his treacherous mind returned to the memory of the warmth in his arms; the hair tickling his nose, the soft breath lulling him into sleep and lastly, the warm brown eyes gazing up at him. 

The track of his thoughts was disconcerting. Sergio turned on the earpiece again to the sounds of Ángel drinking in order to direct his mind elsewhere, but to no avail. Raquel eating and laughing with her husband was all he could picture.

He didn't understand it. He'd mastered his thoughts to the extent where he could pull of a flawless heist, but somehow this, he couldn't manage. 

He did the only thing he could at times when his mind was troubled; he sat up and started meditating. 

He failed miserably.

12 years of practicing controlled breathing and emptying his mind, and all he had to show for it was the fact that he was able to somewhat tune out the miserable sighs of Ángel - but Raquel's brown eyes didn't fade from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. It was distressing.

In the end, he couldn't help it. He wanted to look at the picture she'd sent him for no other reason than that it was her, and seeing her always made his chest feel light.

He opened the phone only to discover that Raquel had deleted the photo from the chat.

His chest twisted into a knot that only kept on tightening the more he stared at the empty space where Raquel's smile had been only an hour ago.

Sergio lowered the phone from his hand. The hollowness from earlier strangled him like a vice. 

_This was it, wasn't it?_

His first response was anger - anger against Ángel from tainting him in Raquel's eyes. But the feeling was soon taken over by burning shame. There was no one else he could blame but himself. He'd been the one who had been attracted to her despite himself, and the one who had brought that attraction right under Ángel's nose.

Not that the attraction meant anything. He had absolutely no feelings for her beyond that. However, it was perfectly justifiable for Raquel to feel uncomfortable even at that.

Lost in the sorry thoughts about the friendship he might have lost, Sergio almost didn't recognize the sounds of Ángel tapping on his phone. He only registered the man was calling someone when he heard the dialing sound.

"For Christ's sake, leave her be," Sergio hissed aloud.

Once the call was connected, the man began: "It's Ángel. I just wanted to let you know I followed that Salva guy after I met him in the cafe. I saw him enter some sort of an abandoned hangar. It looked dodgy."

Sergio's blood froze. He could only listen on in horror as his worst fear came into reality.

"The address is 33 Alcantara if you want to have a look. I think you should. Deep down, I think we both know there's something fishy about him."

His heart had ceased to beat.

The next moment, Sergio heard the sound marking that the call had suddenly ended. Raquel had hung up on him.

A rush of relief flooded his lungs. She seemed to have no interest in entertaining Ángel's suspicions, and it was unlikely she'd ever come to look for the hangar. 

_But Ángel still knew the location._

Sergio leaped off his bed, dashing to the front door.

_That jealous moron. That stupid, stupid man,_ he cursed in his mind as he ran, not forgetting to berate himself as well._ You idiot. Why didn't you expect that he would try to follow you? You gave him the perfect opportunity._

After he had locked the entrance, he realized his hands were shaking. The horrible awareness of what he had to do was crashing on him like a tidal wave.

He slumped against the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. _Think_. he ordered himself. _Think_.

He didn't _necessarily_ have to take him out. Maybe he wouldn't come looking for the hangar. Maybe after the lack of interest from Raquel, he would not tell another soul about it. Maybe he would forget the address the very next day.

But those were all just _maybes_ and he needed stone-cold certainty. His team depended on him. 

He'd think about the measures he would have to take later. First, he'd have to pack up his remote observation station and keep it hidden until he knew the danger was over. 

The first thing Sergio did was uncovering his shelves and barrels of cider beneath the sheets he'd veiled them with in case Ángel came sniffing about. Some cleaning was also due. The cider hobby cover story would have to be implemented and fast.

After he'd managed to make the hangar more presentable, he rushed to pack his equipment in boxes, leaving only the red landline. Only that was essential. He would have to do without monitors and listening devices for a while. 

For some half an hour, he was soaked in sweat. He had produced three big garbage bags full of items to dispose of. After he had taken care of those, he would allow himself five minutes of rest before moving on to the next step of his contingency plan.

He slung one bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the back door.

Only after Sergio saw the man waiting for him outside did he realize that it might not have been Raquel Angel had phoned after all. 

In the next moment, his collar was clutched inside a fist and the bag fell from his hand from the force he was slammed against the wall.

Then his vision blackened as Alberto's fist made contact with his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one can tell me Raquel wouldn't have a tattoo ;D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergio has a roller-coaster of a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on watching all the scenes with Alberto in them to figure out if he was right or left-handed, but then I realized the man doesn't deserve that amount of research lol.
> 
> In this fic, he is left-handed.

Vicuña had struck him with his wedding ring in his finger.

That much Sergio was aware of, judging by the searing, red-hot pain he felt lash across his face.

There was something ironic about it, he found himself thinking before head-splitting ache made his vision go dark. 

He was agonizingly aware that his mouth was filled with blood. It was hard to breathe. None of it was made better by Vicuña's abrasive voice in his ear.

"Think about this the next time you decide to go after another man's wife."

The anticipation of the second punch made his training finally kick in. He ducked out of the way of Vicuña's fist, wrenching himself loose from his grip. Vicuña wouldn't have that, trying to immediately push him back against the wall.

The man was like an animal in confused rage, pulling out at all the stops in order to hurt him but somehow not succeeding. The lack of strategy from his part was what made Sergio's job a lot easier.

When Sergio stopped his hand mid-air by grabbing him by the wrist, the man took a surprised little step back. 

"What the-"

It was just the window that Sergio needed. In seconds, he was able to grab Vicuña in a chokehold. 

Time to put him to sleep.

The man still clawed at his face with his free hand, trying futilely to wound him until even that strength was drained out of him. He slowly turned slack in Sergio's arms.

Sergio let him fall to the ground with a thump, expressing no particular care for his comfort.

He dragged his knuckles across his forehead to wipe off the cold sweat. He then carefully picked up his glasses from the ground where they had fallen. They were slightly bent. 

His hands were shaking as he put them on. Only then, he allowed himself to collapse on the threshold in horror.

Luckily the street was empty. It would be a catastrophe if someone had seen what had just transpired.

Not that the situation wasn't already catastrophic enough: The two cops that had somehow become direct adversaries to him now both knew the location of his criminal base. 

The thought was so nightmarish it almost made him want to burst into hysterical laughter. He had made contingency plans for contingency plans, but this was not a scenario he could have entertained even in his fever dreams. 

Then again, he'd never accounted for getting so mixed up in Raquel's life.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid._

Sergio glanced at Vicuña's body. The man was out for good. A blessing, really. It bought him at least a couple of minutes. 

He didn't know why he was even remotely surprised that Ángel had sold him out. They hadn't exactly parted as friends. But what he was surprised about was the fact that Vicuña had actually turned up at his doorstep like the terminator. 

_Couldn't he have talked with his wife first like a normal person?_

Blood from his face was dripping down on his shirt. That he would have to take care of later. There were bigger things to worry about - like how to divert all the attention from the hangar and fast. Vicuña could be waking up any moment now.

But how?

What soon broke his thoughts of misery was drunken laughter, loud music and cursing coming from nearby. Sergio clambered to his feet. To him, the noise sounded like a choir of angels answering his prayer because, suddenly, he knew what he could do.

This was his only chance to salvage everything.

Leaving Vicuña laying by the threshold, he shot toward the voices like an arrow. In only a few seconds, he caught up group currently stumbling down the street with drunken mirth in their saunter. One of them was carrying a boombox over his shoulder.

Five men and four women. Dressed well enough. Wandering eyes constantly in the lookout for new fun distractions. 

It was so perfect tears almost sprung into Sergio's eyes.

"Hey you! How would you like 50 euros each by testing a brand new type of cider?" he called out.

Their heads instantly spun toward him, hopeful smiles illuminating their faces like Christmas lights.

They were not even fazed by the way he looked which Sergio took as a sign that some god had, indeed, shone his light on him. 

* * *

Some moments later, Alberto woke up on a hard and a lumpy mattress.

Loud party music immediately grated at his ears. An incoming migraine started burning at his temples. He clenched his eyes firmer shut, desperate to return to blissful unconsciousness.

Only after he heard an exaggeratedly loud cough just by his ear, his eyes snapped open.

He was faced with Salvador Martín's cool glare.

His memories immediately came back. Alberto had punched him - as evident by the ugly rainbow of colors cornering the man's left eye and dried blood at the cut on his lip - but somehow, that was all he had managed and after that, everything had gone dark. How in the hell had that string bean managed to cold clock him?

And where the hell had that music come from? 

"Just in time," the man said with a low, calm voice. "I was just about to call the police. Now, do you want to provide some sort of motivation for your assault or should I just report this as unprovoked aggression?"

Alberto did not know how to answer for a moment. This was the first time he'd ever heard this threat. 

"I'm the police," he finally hissed out.

"I know. I suppose it only makes this more embarrassing for you," Martín said, grabbing a phone. He began dialing, taking as much time as possible to press on each number in order to aggravate him. 

Alberto swiftly propped up himself despite the waves of pain that immediately surged through his head at the exhausting motion. "You wouldn't dare-"

His words quickly died out as he saw multiple eyes turn to him.

Only now he saw the room he was in was crowded. There were people in party clothes, glasses of alcohol in their hands and either disapproving or amused expressions on their faces. The walls were lined up with shelves full of bottles and barrels, one working as a table holding a stereo on top. The room was decorated with fairy lights, flickering everywhere around him and furthering his headache.

The place was nothing like Rubio had let it out to be. Had the bastard been screwing with him?

"I got a tip that there was suspected criminal activity in these premises," he managed to say somewhat evenly.

"This is my friend Roberto's cider-tasting party," Martín said, nodding towards the red-faced man that was laughing with some women in the corner. "The only criminal activity that happened here was your fist on my face."

"But Rubio followed you-"

"Yes, I noticed your colleague lurking after me while I was setting up the party earlier today. For the life of me, I cannot understand why he would send you after me as if carrying some cider inside would make me a criminal mastermind."

"Enough about Rubio!" Alberto spat out. "He and his stupid theories are not the reasons I came here anyway. Now, I have a very good reason to believe you have spent the last few nights with my wife."

"I have," Sergio answered calmly.

At that moment, the angry, dark ball that had slowly been swelling up inside him ever since he left home burst. He was just about to grab the man by the throat when a sudden loud voice made him halt.

"Everything alright over there?" called out the man Martín had called Roberto.

The other party guests snapped their heads toward him and he was showered with another round of disgusted looks. 

Alberto felt humiliation burn his chest, giving rise to a new wave of fury. What the hell did these people imagine to know about him?

They would be doing the same if they were in his situation. 

"We are just having a civil discussion, aren't we, Alberto?" 

Martín had addressed him informally. The insult of it felt like a lash on his face. Still, Alberto was forced to lower his fist and quell the flames of rage inside him. There were too many witnesses. Fuck. It was as if the son of a bitch had planned this.

"Your wife and I are just friends. I'm sorry for the pain you might have caused yourself by thinking otherwise, but that is the truth."

"I found your watch in my wife's purse!"

Martín's gaze grew even cooler. "I gave it to her so that she could ask whether you would be interested in buying it. It is a quality brand which I wanted first to offer to people who would appreciate it the most. I see I was mistaken."

Alberto was fairly sure he was lying. Even if he wasn't, he didn't like whatever it was that was going on between him and his wife. He knew very well there wasn't a man on Earth Raquel could be only friends with; she was too greedy for every crumb of male attention, flirting and showing off her skin any chance she got.

However, this wasn't the time or place to squeeze the answers out of Martín. This fight he couldn't win.

He put on his most mellow smile and gave a laugh. The sudden change of his expression seemed to visibly startle Martín.

"Lord… this is really embarrassing. Here I am, going full jealous husband without even knowing all the details. My wife would kill me if she knew. She gets so huffy whenever I do something impulsive like this. You should see her. She's like an angry little bee."

Martín made a face. Alberto wasn't sure why, other men usually smiled at this description of his wife.

Alberto lifted himself off the bed, keeping the easygoing smile on his face. "Thousands of apologies for disrupting your party like this. Let me treat you to lunch some day, make it up for you. But now I will get out of your hair and go back home before the missus gets all worried."

"No need to hurry. I already called her and asked her to come pick you up."

Alberto froze. The words crashed over him like a bucketful of freezing ice.

_Raquel cannot see this. Not after yesterday morning._

It was Martín's time to bring a quiet smile on his face. "Now, I don't want to upset her any more than you do. I want to sort this out as smoothly as possible so you can go home and I can go back to enjoy my friends' party. But with my face looking like this and the situation being what it is… I think it's best if we bend the truth a little."

Martín leaned forward, his hands clasped together. He almost looked like a different man with that dark, determined look in his eyes, causing an involuntary shiver run through Alberto.

"I have two versions of what happened that I can tell Raquel. Help me pick the right one."

* * *

Raquel showed up with her car in less than 20 minutes which made Sergio strongly believe that she had run all the lights on her way here. He opened the door to the hangar and gave her a weak smile the second he saw her exit the vehicle. 

Her face paled in horror as their eyes met. He supposed he couldn't blame her. Based on the brief look he'd gotten from the mirror in the midst of staging the party, it looked like he had been applying make-up on his face with a hammer.

"Salva!" she gasped out. She slammed the door shut behind her and rushed to him, her hand already extended to touch the side of his face. He winced as her fingers made contact.

"My god, what happened?"

Sergio made a dismissive hand motion. "It's not much more than what I told you on the phone. Just a misunderstanding. Your husband had gotten a false tip from your colleague about my friend's party, went in to check the situation and got into a kerfuffle with one of the more drunken guests. I tried to break it off and got accidentally struck in the face by my friend. My own mistake, really."

That story had been an easy pick for Vicuña. All he needed to do to get Sergio to tell it was to inform Ángel that he had been mistaken and that the hangar didn't even belong to Sergio. It helped immensely that the man had not spared strong words while explaining this to the sub-inspector.

If he was Rubio, he wouldn't feel like showing his face at work for the next week or so.

"I'm going to kill Ángel," Raquel exclaimed, her fingers hovering near Sergio's face as if unsure whether to cup his face or not. She bit her lip. "You need to apply cold to that. Do you have-"

Sergio stepped in front of her, preventing her from accessing the doorknob and discovering the party described to her had vaporized. The music was still blaring, but the partygoers had already left after having been compensated for their trouble and the stereo. 50 euros was pretty good pay for testing his product with the additional task of standing guard while Sergio "soothed a deranged customer" in the other end of the room.

"I don't think my friend has any remedies for black eyes here, but I can buy a bag of frozen peas or something. I'll be fine. Your husband is already waiting for you in his car so you can just go back home with him-"

"No."

Sergio blinked. 

"I'm not going home with him," Raquel continued sternly. "I've already told him to spend the night somewhere else. I'm just too angry to stand the sight of him tonight. Him and Ángel organizing this whole ambush on you as if you were some sort of a criminal… I just can't stomach it."

He wondered what Raquel would have thought about the fact that besides all this, it been her husband that had put his face in a new order; Vicuña probably would have had to book a hotel room for more than one night.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry. You can't believe how horrible this makes me feel-"

"It's nothing," Sergio interrupted. "At least now I have an exciting story for the future. The one and only time I got into a fight! My future grandchildren will eat it up."

Raquel didn't smile. "At least let me do something to make up for this. I have a first aid kit at home. Can I at least tend to your face? I just know you're going to be a typical man about it and you'll be stuck looking like that for weeks."

"Ah well, I'd hate to be a sore sight for you for that long," he chuckled, then immediately felt awkward. Their last conversation had been left on an uncomfortable note with her deleting the picture and not calling him back, and he could sense Raquel tense at the reference to the future of their relationship.

Raquel seemed to recognize the emotions flashing across his face because she began, hesitantly. "Besides, there's something I want to talk to you about. But if you want to go back to your party…"

"It's alright. I'll come with you. My friends will be fine without me - it's not like I didn't spend all night on the phone with you anyway," he said, going for a mirthful note.

The frown stayed fixed on her face. He took as a confirmation that things were, indeed, weird between them.

* * *

The car ride to Raquel's place was quiet. At one point, Sergio realized that this was the longest he'd ever been silent with her - even counting the long, tranquil moments they had spent admiring the city lights the night they had walked from Aravaca to her place.

Nothing was said even as they emerged out of the car and walked to the door. She fumbled for her keys for a while, and he found himself thinking how much he hated this. It was almost unnatural, not feeling the quiet little warmth in his chest like usually when he was with her.

"Wait here," she told him when they were inside and disappeared into some room.

Sergio looked around himself for the lack of anything else to do. The living room was elegant; There were many paintings on the wall, alongside expensive-looking vases and other decorative items on top of designer furniture. Nothing from Ikea in sight. Raquel seemed very well off with her husband.

Unbidden, his thoughts went to the miserable little apartment he'd used as his cover. It brought an odd knot into his stomach.

It was bizarre. It was not as if he was an actual substitute teacher making a substitute teacher's salary and had any cause to feel inferior. Besides, he was soon going to be richer than a hundred of Vicuña's put together.

Not that it was a competition.

He let his eyes circle the room until they finally stopped with a start at the little figure in the doorway.

Pyjama-clad Paula stood there, gaping at him.

"Er, hi," he greeted, not knowing what else to possibly say.

Luckily, that was just the moment Raquel decided to come back to the living room with the kit. Panic flashed in her eyes at the sight of her daughter.

"Paula, what are you doing out of bed?"

The girl answered with a wide-eyed question of her own, pointing at Sergio. "What happened to your face?"

"Señor Martín fell down the stairs," Raquel answered quickly before Sergio even had the time to open his mouth.

Paula wrinkled her nose. "Really? It looks like he got punched in the face. Hard."

Sergio blinked while Raquel crouched down to her daughter's level. "No, cariño. You need to stop watching all those horribly violent cartoons. And get back to bed. Me and señor Martín are going to talk about some grown-up stuff."

"But is night. Why do I have to sleep but you don't?“

"Because… it is like when you have friends sleeping over. You stay up a little bit later to talk. That is what me and señor Martín want to do right now."

"Can I tell my friends at school that Señor Stay-Alert had a sleepover at our house?"

"No!" they both gasped at the same time.

Silence followed.

Sergio couldn't help it. The situation was so ridiculous and the expression on Raquel's face so aghast that a small chuckle escaped him.

She glanced at him and to his delight, a small smile was tugging at the corner of her lips, though she tried to look somewhat stern for her daughter's sake.

"How about this, you get to watch one cartoon from the DVD in the morning if you're a good girl and go back to sleep. Doesn't that sound like a good deal?"

The girl grinned widely and nodded.

After putting her daughter to bed, Raquel lead Sergio upstairs. They entered a room that seemed obviously to be the master bedroom, he began panicking. It suddenly felt like a terribly great breach of him to have accepted her offer. This was not a place where he felt like he belonged.

At least the ice had been broken a little by Paula. Raquel was still shaking at her head at the humorous exchange.

"Sorry about that. But you know, kids."

"Do I," he chuckled.

They fell into a surprisingly comfortable silence. Sergio watched as Raquel broke the inner bag of the cold compress then pressed it against the side of his face.

"You should have applied cold a lot sooner," she muttered. 

Sergio didn't answer anything, feeling suddenly nervous about how close she was. The neckline of her blouse dipped a little as she leaned closer and at once, he remembered all too vividly that she had taken this shirt off just hours before to take the picture.

_Bag of potatoes_, he reminded himself sternly and turned his gaze down.

"Lay back. I'll get you a towel so you can rest your head on the cold compress."

"But won't the pillow still get wet?

"It doesn't matter. That's my side of the bed anyway."

To emphasize her earlier command, she gave his chest a gentle push until Sergio reclined himself. He was left staring at the ceiling while Raquel disappeared into the bathroom.

He was lying on Raquel's bed, feeling all sorts of weird about the intimacy of it. It seemed like he wouldn't stop this breakneck-speed journey outside of his comfort zone any time soon.

Raquel came back with a towel and a wet cloth. She pushed the towel underneath his head, gave him the cold compress and asked him to hold it against his cheek. She then began tenderly cleaning the gash the ring had left on his face.

The charged silence inside the room combined with her shiver-inducing fingertips on his skin was too much to bear. He had to start talking.

"Listen, if I have ever crossed any line…"

Raquel didn't answer anything to that, just looked away uncomfortably. It made his stomach twist.

After a moment of silence, she continued. "Yesterday, a friend commented on our relationship in a way that got me thinking. I believe we both have been so swept by this connection we have found that we haven't taken the time to discuss… well, the fact that I am married."

"We haven't set the necessary boundaries," Sergio agreed.

"Yes, exactly," she said quickly, looking relieved. Then her face flushed a little. "Like that photo I sent you. I should know better than to send half-naked pictures of me to my male friends."

"If it helps, I really didn't think about it as anything tantalizing."

_Bag of potatoes. Bag of potatoes,_ he chanted in his head before continuing: "I just thought you looked beautiful."

"And then there's you constantly calling me beautiful."

Now it was Sergio's turn to feel embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I'm going to stop doing that."

"No, it's okay. I don't mind at all. The thing is… my husband does."

Her face twisted a little, as if she'd gotten an unsavory taste in her mouth from what she was about to say. "The reason I deleted that picture is because my husband- well, sometimes he likes to go through my phone."

"But only to make sure everything is okay with me," she added quickly when Sergio frowned. "He doesn't take it without permission or anything, I always give it to him when he asks. And since I have been recently staying out so often, he really _wanted_ to see it."

It was not his place to comment on her marriage so he just nodded tightly.

"So you deleted the picture before he could see it?"

"Yeah, I just didn't want to make him worry over nothing. But he still got upset at your 'beautiful' message. That was when Ángel called him, and I think one of the reasons why it was so easy for him to agree with his suspicions was because he felt jealous."

_Indeed_. Sergio's face ached at the memory of that jealousy.

She sighed. "So it is hard not to feel like you getting mixed up in that fight is all my fault."

"Hey, you did nothing wrong. It was just… bad timing. Besides, your husband and I parted in friendly terms."

A big fat lie - but it was not as if it was the first one he'd ever told her.

"I'm glad to hear that," she stopped her motions for a second and looked at him in the eye. He saw her hesitate as if choosing her next words with uttermost care.

She swallowed and began. "Salva, I know we have only known for five days, but you have become one of the most important people in my life. I don't want to lose you. That is why things like this can never happen again."

A sprinkling of hope rushed in his veins. "Does that you're not about to friend-dump me?“

She smiled a little. "No, unless you are about to dump be me for getting you that black eye."

"Well, I do like a little danger in my life-"

He was cut off by Raquel suddenly wrapping him in a hug. Sergio remained frozen for a second, taking in the sensation. Finally, he patted her awkwardly in the back.

The hug ended as soon as it had started and she withdrew with an embarrassed smile. "I'm not sure how much my husband would approve of me hugging you, but I had to do that. I'm just glad you understand."

_No hugging?_ Vicuña really was a piece of work.

"It's alright. That could be our first ground rule, in fact: hugging only when we are really, really happy."

"Agreed." She smiled, but her eyes quickly grew more serious. "And Rule 2: no more staying up all night together. That I _know_ he doesn't approve of."

Sergio nodded solemnly. "And we'll probably have to cut back the time we spend together anyway if we want to keep him content. Rule 3."

What they had been doing this far was not sustainable. He knew that.

Still, it stung a little to say it aloud

"I suppose," she said, frowning.

"Rule 4: Regardless of how irresistible you happen to find me, let's keep the lip-on-lip kisses to minimum" Sergio suggested in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She grinned ."Alright. Only one accidental lip kiss allowed."

"Well, I wouldn't call it a matter of life and death if we put _two_ there instead of one..."

"Oh, you're horrible."

This playful exchange went on for a while until they finally slipped into a pleasant silence. She fetched a second cloth and wetted it with anticeptic foam. Fully focusing now on tending to him, she began slowly wiping his lip with a cloth, her fingers curled around the back of his head to hold it up. Sergio hardly even noticed the sting of the antiseptic. He only closed his eyes, relishing Raquel's gentle touch.

"This is a really nasty looking cut," she commented.

"Rings do tend to leave an ugly mark."

She quirked her brow, amused. "Is your friend a pimp or something? Why would anyone else wear a ring in their right…"

She trailed off, looking thoughtful. Sergio just shrugged, having no energy to conduct an elaborate backstory for his ring-wearing imaginary friend.

Raquel rose. The motion was so sudden it startled Sergio.

"Excuse me for a moment," she muttered, an odd look on her face.

With that said, she briskly walked out of the room.

"Raquel?" he called out after her, propping himself up.

* * *

Raquel rushed down the stairs in a vain hope to gain at least some lead before Salva would inevitably follow after her. A tear spilled down on her cheek which she wiped out with a furious sweep of her knuckle.

_Her husband had been the one to punch Salva in the face._

He was left-handed. Of course, it had been him. Deep down, she had known it but hadn't wanted to believe it.

She felt like an idiot for not even questioning the story that had been fed to her.

Another ball of anger formed at the thought of Salva lying to her. But it shriveled quickly. It was useless to be mad at him. Who knew what Alberto had said in order to convince him to fabricate this story? It was just like him, doing his everything to warp the events to his own liking. And why should she even be surprised that he would escalate the cock-measuring contest he seemed to have with every other man on the planet to violence?

And there she'd been, actually feeling guilty about her relationship with Salva - because of something Ángel of all people had said.

_Bastard_, she cursed both her husband and Ángel.

She thought back to Salva's purple-black face and felt the compelling urge to break something. She paced around in the kitchen in hopes it would make her anger wane. 

No such luck.

Had she really, if only briefly, considered throwing away the best thing that had happened to her in _years_ just because of those two men? And had she actually just laid some ground rules with Salva as if they were both _kindergartners_?

As if there was anything even remotely questionable about their relationship.

She halted in front of the kitchen window and hugged herself, studying her reflection. The anger on her face had subsided and made way for doubt.

_There wasn't, right?_

There seemed to be only one minor problem; he was attracted to her. There was an abundance of proof of it, from his direct compliments about her appearance to the erection she'd felt pressing against her back when she'd briefly woken up in his arms the night they'd fallen asleep together.

She felt an unexpected heat rise in her at the memory, stemming from somewhere low, deep in her belly and creeping slowly upward, causing her chest to flush and heartbeat to quicken.

_Don't think about it,_ she chastised herself. She was not allowed to think about Salva as a man in any shape or form.

She sighed. That would be a job lot easier if he didn't keep constantly reminding her with his solid chest, his scent, the gruff of his beard...

Not to mention the very _male_ way he looked at her she pretended not to notice.

As if summoned, Salva decided to pick just that moment to materialize behind her.

"Everything alright?“ he asked, considerate as always.

One glance at his marred features was enough to rekindle the anger inside her. The had to be something she could do to get back at Alberto for this.

An idea sprang to her mind. It was petty, but tonight she was simply incapable of anything more mature.

She opened the door of the cabinet and took out the overpriced bottle of wine Alberto had been saving up for a special occasion. He had treasured it for so long it seemed like only a visit from the king would make him cork it open.

"How about a nightcap?" she asked Salva and picked up the fanciest pair of crystal glasses they owned; another thing Alberto didn't want her to touch. Those were reserved only for the bigshots at work he so desperately wanted to impress.

"Are you sure? I thought we decided-"

"Oh yeah, about those ground rules. Yes, we should be considerate of my husband's feelings…"

She violently popped the bottle open, making Salva to take a frightened step back.

"But letting him dictate what I can and cannot do with my best friend is utter bullshit. That is up to me decide, and right now I decide that we both could really use a drink."

Salva hesitated, but after seeing the fierce expression on her face, he accepted a glass from her with a small smile.

So Raquel poured him a glass of 300-euro wine, picturing Alberto's face witnessing this.

She smiled.

* * *

Three glasses later, Sergio made an observation.

_Raquel was the cutest tipsy person he'd ever seen._

The absoluteness of this statement might have been influenced by the fact that he himself was very tipsy as well. In his defense, the wine had ended up being delicious - and Raquel truly had the best laugh he'd ever heard.

The woman was currently laughing into her sleeve in the armchair. Sergio felt himself beaming like the sun from the sheer pride of managing to amuse her so. The story of his brother's disastrous dinner party had been a good choice.

"Seriously? Three?" Raquel asked between the fits of giggles.

"Yes. He had invited three women who were or would at some point be his wives. And he seated them all in the same table with me."

"What the hell is wrong with your brother?"

Sergio sighed. "I ask myself that question every day. My theory is that he feeds on chaos."

"I need to meet him someday," she smiled.

Sergio looked down at the glass he was holding in his hands, not knowing what to say. _If that were to happen, something would need to go very, very wrong first._

"Maybe," he eventually said and cleared his throat, compelled to change the subject. "But as I said, the interrogation with Ángel earlier today is still a hell of a contender for the most awkward conversation of my life."

"God, don't even get me started on him again."

Raquel had only an hour earlier finished a rant about how exactly she felt about Sergio's story of the events at Hanoi. He shook his head, smiling. "Trust me, that is the farthest of my intentions."

"No offense, but… _men_." She picked up the throw pillow next to her, pressed it against her face and groaned. Sergio let out a snort.

"Did I even tell you about what the head of Intelligence tried to pull today?" she asked, letting the pillow fall back on her lap. "Although, first I should probably explain what our next move is in the Royal Mint case."

Sergio felt an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach.

"You know what? You don't have to talk about work. It'll probably just stress you out," he said quickly.

"Hmm, that might be true. And tonight is all about unwinding, isn't it? That's what we need."

Sergio lifted his glass in agreement and they fell into a comfortable silence. She began humming along to something that was playing on the radio in the background.

The decision to cut her off before she could reveal anything had not been premeditated. Truthfully, it confounded him a little. However, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He had already planted the listening device on Ángel. He didn't _need_ to use Raquel as well. 

Like she said, tonight was about unwinding. He just wanted to wipe the operation from his mind for a couple of hours and just enjoy the small pleasure of hearing Raquel tipsily fumble for the words of a cheesy love song.

He had been punched today. He deserved nice things like that.

He watched her with a radiant smile on his face which she quickly noticed.

"What?" she chuckled.

"Nothing."

"You are laughing at me," she accused, grinning. The sight of it stirred something warm inside him. 

Whenever she smiled really hard, her nose scrunched up endearingly and her lips peeled back to reveal her teeth. It was the loveliest sight, especially her adorable pair of front teeth that were a bit longer than the rest. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth as if little embarrassed by it.

Sergio felt a fleeting urge to hunt down the person who'd ever made her feel the need to do that.

She snorted, clambering up to her feet. "This is just a really good song, okay? I'm sad you cannot appreciate it."

She began singing with a mock male voice, doing her best Eros Ramazzotti impression. "Cantar a la noche no bastará, es poco para mí. Si quiero decirte que nunca habrá, cosa más bella que tú!"

After singing the last line, she snapped her head around and pointed at Sergio, an exaggeratedly sultry look on her face.

He began laughing in earnest. The laughter stemmed from somewhere deep inside of him, rising to the surface in a rush as if someone had burst a champagne bottle inside him.

It was a nice feeling, one he didn't really remember having experienced before.

She closed her eyes and continued singing, now sounding like herself. She swayed along to the music with a smile on her face as if nothing else existed.

"Cosa más linda que tú. Única como eres, inmensa cuando quieres…"

That was when she stumbled over the edge of the carpet, and Sergio shot up to his feet to catch her before she toppled onto the floor.

"You really are drunk," he chuckled, trying to balance her by the shoulders. 

"Gracias por existir," she finished the verse, looking up at him and giggling.

The man on the radio continued singing, but Raquel grew quiet. She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. After a moment of silence, she let out a gentle sigh.

They ended up in an odd sort of standing embrace. Raquel was still slightly swaying to the music, while Sergio was unable to move one muscle. He was not sure what was expected of him, so he deemed it best to just stay still and not push his luck.

Not that he would have been able to move even if he'd wanted to. There was something paralyzing about having his face half-buried in her soft hair with the rest of her gently breathing in his arms. It was overwhelming and he wondered whether he would ever get used to the feeling of it. He could only describe it as being suffocated. But in an oddly pleasant way.

She muttered something into his shirt as the song ended.

"What was that?"

She spoke up, her tone almost teasing. "I thought you might dance with me."

"Oh trust me, you don't want me to dance with you. By the end of the night, your toes would be black and blue," he chuckled.

"I wouldn't mind," she whispered.

She sounded so earnest that it tugged at Sergio's heart.

Another odd sensation washed over him at the feel of her head on his shoulder. _God, she was so small._ He felt a strong need to tuck her in his arms and not let the world near her.

It was a ridiculous thought. She was the police officer, not him. She needed no protection from him.

She turned her head to look up at him warmly. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Sergio found his throat turning drier the longer she held the gaze. Once again, he felt lost about what to do next.

_Her lashes are a really nice shade of brown,_ he thought.

He wondered whether that was an appropriate comment to make to break the silence.

But before he could say anything, she lifted her palm and pressed it against the unmarred side of his face, caressing him as if he was something precious.

Sergio's heart stopped beating.

The torment lasted only for a handful of seconds. Soon she withdrew and sighed, looking away from him.

"I'm sorry. Boundaries."

"It's alright," Sergio choked out, several parts of him tensing and untensing at the same time as if learning how to move again.

"It's just that-

She halted, shook her head and smiled.

"What?"

She didn't answer at first. Instead, she bent down to the coffee table and picked up the wine glasses to clear them away. She kept her face firmly turned away from him.

And then, finally:

"You make me so happy," she whispered, still not looking at him. As it saying it quietly to the air was the only way such frail words could be let out.

The vulnerability in her voice rocked him.

The words played back and forth in his mind, and the more they did, the more an indescribable feeling swelled inside him. It was the same feeling he'd experienced while holding her but somehow a thousand times better.

_Yes_, he wanted to say. _That is something I'd like to do as long as you let me._

But he said nothing, opting to only stare at Raquel's back as she disappeared inside the kitchen.

She came back with a coy look on her face. "It's late."

Sergio was startled back into his senses. "Oh yes. I should-"

"No, there's no need. Maybe Paula's sleepover idea is not so bad after all. We have both been drinking and no buses are running at this hour."

"I wouldn't want to impose on you."

"Oh no, it would be no trouble at all. We have a guest room-"

"Raquel," he said emphatically and looked into her eyes. _No offense, but I don't want to be here when your husband comes home_, he tried to communicate.

That, she seemed to catch.

There was nothing else left to do but to call a cab. That was when Sergio became aware that his phone had gotten lost somewhere while they had been drinking and laughing.

They both turned some throw pillows over and glanced at the underside of various pieces of furniture until Raquel finally decided to call the phone. It rang in the master bedroom. Raquel rushed upstairs to fetch the phone before it could wake up Paula.

She came back with the widest grin on her face.

"I can't believe you have me saved as Sra. Murillo on your phone!" she exclaimed as if it was the most delightful thing she'd ever discovered.

For one reason or another, he felt embarrassed. "Gimme that."

"And not only Sra. Murillo, it is Sra. Murillo with 'Paula's mother' in brackets," she giggled, snatching the phone out of Sergio's reach. "Is this really the state of our relationship? Should I start using _usted_ again?"

"That was written before I even knew you properly!"

"We ought to fix that then, don't we?" she said and came to sit beside him on the couch. "I'm writing 'Raquel, bracket, your brilliant and gorgeous friend, bracket'. Just so that you surely won't forget who I am."

_As if I would ever,_ Sergio found himself thinking, feeling the same odd sensation bubble in his chest again.

"Just a moment, going to add a picture as an extra reminder. You know, since I was silly enough to delete the only other photo you had of me."

Before Sergio could think of a witty reply to that, Raquel did it. She squeezed close to him, pressed her face against his and smiled. He instinctively turned to look at her, not even realizing that Raquel was taking a selfie before he heard the shutter click.

"Done." She leaped back on her feet, dropping the phone on his lap. "I'll call you a cab from the landline, I have the number written there on a sticker."

Sergio picked up his phone and looked at the picture left on the screen. In it, Raquel looked like she had been frozen mid-laughter, her eyes happy and crinkled. Their cheeks were pressed together, but Sergio was not looking at the camera like Raquel. He was looking at her in awe.

Somehow, the picture was even nicer than the one she'd sent before.

He stared at it and smiled, harder than he'd ever smiled before, it seemed. It felt like he could split open from happiness any moment now.

The thought hit him with some force. The realization was startling but somehow also so natural that he didn't even try fighting it.

Yes, this was it. As ridiculous it was, this single moment with him sitting on Raquel's living room couch with a black eye - the touch of her cheek against his still burning his skin - had to be the happiest moment of his entire life.

* * *

Twenty minutes after receiving the call, Manuel pulled into the quiet suburban street and began to wait for his next passenger.

After eleven years as a cab driver, he thought nothing would be able to surprise him anymore. Yet, he experienced some refreshing stirring in his chest when he eventually witnessed the delightful scene at the door of the house he was supposed to wait in front of.

A woman and a man came out. Judging by their faltering steps, they were both at least a little drunk. They stopped at the threshold, exchanged some words and then proceeded to just stare and smile at each other for a long moment as if nothing else but them existed. It was so endearing Manuel didn't even consider tooting his horn to catch their attention.

Finally, the woman rose to her tiptoes and kissed the man on the cheek. The man then turned his head, pointed at his lips and said something that made the woman laugh and slap him lightly on the shoulder.

She then slipped back inside, leaving the man standing alone, staring into nothingness with a dreamy smile on his face. That was when Manuel tooted the horn. He didn't have all night.

He hurried to the cab with an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry, bit lost in my thoughts tonight."

Manuel could only gape at him in response.

"Oh yeah, the black eye and all," the man realized as if he'd somehow forgotten the horrible condition of his face. "That's a funny story."

The man did not choose to share that story with him, only giving him the address instead. Manuel thought it was probably for the best and set off.

The first ten minutes of the journey was no different from all the other passengers - the man stared intently on his phone without saying a word. But what roused Manuel's curiosity was the fact the man was not furiously typing messages or scrolling some feed. He was simply staring at something with the same foolish-sort of smile on his face like earlier.

Then he finally spoke.

"Have you ever had one of those nights that are so perfect that you can't even imagine anything ever bringing you down again?"

"Yes, I could definitely say so," Manuel chuckled.

It was a particular joy to see people his age in love. Made the world seem like less of a cold, dark place. 

"Mind if I ask what you are looking at? Does it have anything to do with this wonderful night of yours?" he was emboldened to ask.

"Oh, it's just a picture of me and my friend. It turned out really good."

At the next red light, the man lifted his phone up so Manuel could glance at the screen through his rear-view mirror. It seemed to be the same woman from the door which was not too surprising.

"Her name is Raquel," the man exhaled as if not able to hold it in any longer. 

_Yup. Definitely in love._

"She's cute," he commented. She really was pretty, but she was nothing compared to his wife Laura.

"More than."

Manuel rolled his eyes, smiling.

"Well, of course. You know what they say, the woman you love is the most beautiful in the world."

"Yes," the man sighed wistfully. "There is this thing she does when she smiles-"

He stopped dead in his tracks, and not another word came out of his mouth. Manuel glanced at him over his shoulder. The man looked a little disturbed as if something that had just transpired had caught him off guard.

"No, actually. I didn't mean to…" his words trailed off. He swallowed, then shot something akin to a glare at the rear-view window. "I disagree with that sentiment."

Manuel lifted his brow. "You don't think the saying holds true?"

"No- Well, maybe. I have never been in love so I wouldn't know. But what I am trying to say is that we are just friends. You shouldn't have applied that to me," he said, offended.

"I don't love her," he added, almost as an after-thought.

"Pal, you have not stopped staring at a picture of her ever since you stepped inside this cab. It really seems like you _do_," Manuel said wryly. 

The man started vigorously shaking his head. Manuel rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the navigator. 

The next time he looked back at his passenger, he became alarmed. The man had stopped shaking his head but was now pale as a ghost. He looked like he'd just had a lighting strike the ground he stood on.

He shook his head one more time, but slowly and hesitantly, not looking certain at all. 

"You okay back there?"

The man gave him no answer. Instead, he just stared blankly in front of him in shock like someone who had just heard the worst news of his life or realized that he'd made a terrible mistake. It spooked Manuel. 

He thought long and hard before speaking up again.

"Well, if you _do_, you know…. surely, it's only a good thing?" he tried to comfort.

Manuel met the man's eyes in the rear-view mirror. The look he gave as his answer was one of naked despair.

The rest of the journey, the passenger kept his face buried in his hands. The atmosphere in the car was so uncomfortable Manuel wanted to crawl out of his skin.

He probably should have kept his nose out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Raquel is singing is Eros Ramazzotti's La cosa más bella = There's nothing more beautiful (than you)
> 
> Yes, I find it delightfully ironic as well.


End file.
